


Beyond the Clearing

by Puffcat



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, Slow Burn, alpha pair, eventually I'll stop tagging characters because there are gonna be too many, rating will change as story progresses!, ships will be added as they appear, the dragon!Yukimura story is finally started, title also might change idk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 04:16:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6314821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puffcat/pseuds/Puffcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a strange and inexplicable summer when he was young, Sanada has tried his best to live his life as normally as possible. He's all but forgotten the friend he lost and the memories he made. Little does he know that once magic makes contact, it has a tendency to never truly leave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into עברית available: [מעבר לקרחת היער](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9414866) by [MidnightTranslaions (MidnightFragments)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightFragments/pseuds/MidnightTranslaions)



_Magic is all around us._

_To find it, you need only look in the right place…_

 

Growing up, Sanada remembered his grandmother speaking those words to him many times. She was an avid believer in the unexplained and what most people would call unnatural. If Sanada happened to misplace a favorite shirt, when he had sworn that he had put it away properly, his grandmother would only smile mysteriously and shake her head.

“Give it time, it will come back to you Genichirou. Beloved things have a way of always returning, at one time or another.”

And in time, he always found whatever he had been looking for. Or rather, his mother did. But six year old Sanada was too happy to be wearing his Red Power Ranger shirt again to put much thought into it.

His grandfather, on the other hand, was very much against believing in anything that hadn’t been proven, or couldn’t be seen. He’d just roll his eyes when Sanada listened with rapt attention to his grandmother’s stories, grand adventures with dragons and battles and long lost soulmates. “They’re just tales, Genichirou. And sooner or later, you’ll grow out of them. You’ll have to.” And Sanada would nod like a good, obedient grandson should, and then run outside to play. But he never forgot the dragons, his favorites of all the stories he heard. And he never forgot what his grandmother told him about magic.

There was a part of him that believed maybe, just maybe, there was some truth to it.

In the summer of his seventh year, the Sanada family gained new neighbors, across the street. The house was built fresh, but it was very traditional, like their own. At first, Sanada paid the house little attention, he had much more important things to focus on, like the grasshoppers that always evaded his net, or the tiny bundle of straw he tried and tried to cut in half with sticks. He wasn’t yet old enough to be allowed to handle a real katana.

As for the supposedly inhabited new home, Sanada never saw anyone go in or out, or people working in the yard, or even a car parked outside, but at his age, it hardly registered as strange. It remained so quiet that he nearly put its existence completely out of his mind. Until one afternoon, when he was playing in his backyard, and someone wandered in.

A shadow passed over the grass Sanada sat picking at, and a breeze picked up, swirling around him. He raised his gaze, tensed for something dangerous, only to be met by that of a strange boy. Soft looking, curly navy blue hair hung just past his ears, framing dark eyes and a quiet smile. He was dressed in a yukata made of bright turquoise silk, embroidered with fine silver thread. It looked like something for ceremonies and formal affairs, not for an activity as dirty as playing outside. Sanada had not once seen him in school, and he knew he would have remembered a classmate that looked like the child before him. Perhaps he was part of the family that had moved in?

He stood up, brushing the dirt and grass from his knees, and gave a small bow. “Hi, I’m Sanada Genichirou. Who’re you?” Even with this odd meeting, he remembered the manners his parents had so diligently taught him.

The boy returned his bow, eyes brightening as he recognized the acceptance of his presence. “You may call me Koichi.” His voice was melodic, soothing. Not quite matching his child’s body.

He offered no more information, and Sanada blinked, but did not comment. Koichi sounded like a first name, did he not have a surname? But he quickly shook it off, happy for the new playmate he had just gained, and turned Koichi’s attention toward the stick he was attempting to sharpen into something resembling a katana.

Usually preferring to play by himself at school, Sanada had never had a friend like Koichi before. Every day he came to the yard where Sanada waited for him, dressed in the same style of ornate, colorful robe. Together they spent days wandering about the neighborhood, looking for interesting rocks, and having pretend kendo matches. Although Koichi was smaller than Sanada, he surprised the other boy with his skill with a stick. But both were very careful never to actually strike each other in their games.

Summer passed quickly and blissfully. Sanada’s parents were thrilled at the friend he had made, although they had never actually met Koichi. Nor had Sanada met his family. But neither were bothered by the fact, and neither asked about it. As the days began to grow short, and the leaves showed hints of the brilliant reds and yellows of fall, Sanada hoped that Koichi would be joining him at school. It would be refreshing to have someone so familiar there. And he was becoming so used to Koichi’s presence, it felt odd to think about what his days might be like without him. When he told the other as much, he got only got a gentle smile in return. If Sanada had been more perceptive, he would have noticed the glimmer of sadness that flickered behind the sapphire eyes of his friend.

As the sun set on the last day of summer, Koichi presented Sanada with a flower. It had many thin, curling petals, painted in shades of cerulean and royal blue. In the fading sunlight, it almost seemed to shimmer, the tiniest of sparkles dancing across silk soft leaflets of color. The beautiful bloom came with no explanation, and just as Sanada was about to ask why he had been given such a gift, or even utter a ‘thank you’, Koichi leaned in, placing the most innocent of kisses on his cheek. And as quickly as he had leaned in, he was hurrying away, yukata flowing out behind him. Sanada stood rooted to the spot, a soft tinge rising up his cheeks as he clutched the flower by its stem. In that brief moment, he’d felt something warm deep in his chest. It had been comforting, even familiar, though it lasted no more than a second.

 

The first day of school arrived, and Sanada found himself standing outside his yard, waiting for Koichi to join him. He stood for quite some time, looking around for any sign of the navy haired boy, but none appeared. Finally, his mother, exasperated and slightly confused by her son’s out of character actions, ushered him into her car and drove him to school. Sanada supposed his friend must just be sick, and couldn’t call because they had never thought to exchange home phone numbers. Surely he would meet him the next day.

But again, Koichi wasn’t there. Or the next day, or the next, or the day after that. Sanada spent his weekend sitting on his front steps, watching the house across the street. He saw no movement, no indication that anyone lived there. It looked just as it had at the beginning of summer. He briefly considered going over and knocking, but he put that thought out of his head almost immediately. He’d never been introduced to the rest of Koichi’s family, he couldn’t just show up on their doorstep without warning.

The following Monday, when Sanada came home from another day of school, the house had vanished entirely. Every board, every glass window, every roof tile was gone. There wasn’t even an imprint in the ground, no disturbed soil where the foundation had been set.

Shocked and slightly afraid, he ran to his mother, desperate to find out where it, and the boy that had lived there, had gone. But when he voiced his confusion, she only frowned at him.

“What house? Genichirou, that lot’s been empty for years. There’s never been a house there.”

Sanada was dumbstruck. His mother had to have seen, it had been there, he’d looked at it every day for months. How could she not have noticed? He tried again, asking about Koichi. Maybe he lived somewhere else down the street. His mother would certainly know if that were true. This time, she began to look concerned as Sanada became progressively more distraught. As gently as she could, she told him that the only other child on their street was in high school, quite a bit older than he was. No other couples had children, let alone one matching the rather exotic description Sanada had given.

At that point, the little raven haired boy was beginning to get angry. His friend was missing, but his mother wouldn’t do anything but tell him how wrong he was, how all the things he had experienced with Koichi hadn’t been real, and apparently, he didn’t even exist. He ran from the kitchen, fighting back tears, and on his way to his room, nearly knocked right into his grandmother.

Upon seeing his now tearstained and upset Sanada’s face was, she took his hand and led him to her sitting room, before settling him on her lap in her favorite chair.

“Now tell me, Genichirou, what’s got you in such distress?”

Hearing his grandmother’s kind, soothing voice, Sanada took deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself down. He told her everything, all about the strange house, and Koichi, and their adventures together. He told her that he didn’t understand, how could something so vivid, so real, all be in his head? And his grandmother listened patiently, not saying a word as Sanada voiced his tale. Even after he finished speaking, she remained silent, thinking for a moment.

“Do you remember what I always told you?” She finally asked.

Of course Sanada did, and he nodded. “Magic is all around us.” He repeated, sniffling softly.

“That’s right.” His grandmother smiled. “Just because only you saw this boy, or that house, doesn’t make it any less real. I’ve always said that there are things that just can’t be explained. I think this must be one of them. You should treasure the time that you had with Koichi. And remember it always. It sounds like something very special.”

Again, Sanada nodded, smiling weakly despite the overwhelming sadness resonating in his core. He could always count on his grandmother to comfort him, make him feel validated when no one else did. And she was right. Even if he never did see Koichi again, this had been his best summer yet. And he was determined to remember it that way. The flower he had been given still sat next to his bed, in a small jar, every bit as beautiful as it had been when he first received it.

 

***

 

A bird chirped outside his office window, just as Sanada was finishing up his last piece of paperwork for the report he was working on. He leaned back in his desk chair, sighing as a light warm breeze blew in, gently ruffling the stack of post-it notes next to his computer. Now twenty five years old, Sanada was starting his first year as a police sergeant. One of the youngest in the prefecture. His grandfather had repeatedly told him how proud he was, following in his footsteps and exceeding his expectations. His entire family, of course, had been proud of him.

After that summer, all those years ago, life went on without interruption. Sanada grew older, taller, wiser. And slowly the memories of the strange boy he had known drifted to the back of his mind. It was easier, he had decided, if he didn’t think about it. He’d had bigger things to worry about, like school, his future, and leading his high school tennis team to victory at nationals three years in a row. He’d entered the police academy, and graduated top of his class. Life was good. Life was normal.

On such a beautiful day, Sanada was disappointed that he had been assigned to desk work rather than patrols. In a quiet town like his own, incidents rarely happened. Most officers spent their patrols on street corners, or in front of the bank, watching for criminals or ne’er-do-wells that would never come. If Sanada was truly lucky, he might catch his friend Yagyuu Hiroshi on his lunchbreak from managing the local temple, if he wasn’t working at his other part time job as an actuary in the city several miles over. But not today. Today was a day for sitting inside, buckling down, and forcing himself to get through all of his reports, no matter how dry or uneventful. He had even saved what he deemed the most interesting for last, and all that had been was a disturbance call that had just turned out to be a rather drunk group of college students that had accidentally overturned a garbage can. Several times, as they apparently tried to set it back up, but to no avail.

As a police officer, Sanada had learned to appreciate a quiet day. And he knew it was a bad idea to wish for something that would pull him away from his desk. But still, a small, nagging part of him hoped.

Not a second after he finished that wistful thought, his cell phone rang. He picked up, only to be met with his mother’s shaking, tearful voice.

“Genichirou…. Y-you…your grandmother has passed.”

 

***

 

Sanada’s grandmother was laid to rest at the very top of the large hill overlooking her childhood home. The ceremony had been small and somber, only the closest family members attended. Dressed in the one suit he owned, Sanada listened as the priest said final prayers, watched as one person after another gave their flowers before he laid down his own. The lone grave marker stood tall above the soft emerald grass, an eternal reminder of the cherished Sanada family matriarch. It was hewn from a dark granite and polished until it shone, with her name carefully engraved with elegant kanji.

Now, after blessings were said and speeches made, Sanada alone remained by the stone. His parents had not questioned him, knowing that he wanted to have a quiet goodbye of his own. His mother had squeezed his shoulder lightly as she left, a small but appreciated gesture of comfort. It almost unfair, how perfect a day it was. It was neither too hot nor too humid, and there wasn’t a cloud to be seen in the deep, expansive summer sky. To Sanada, the world had no right to keep going on like this, as though nothing at all had happened, as if one of the most important people in his life was gone forever. But as he ran his fingers over the smooth rock, he realized that his grandmother would have wanted it this way. Days like this were always her favorite.  He remembered her sitting outside on the porch for hours, just enjoying the day as the breezes that blew by made the hanging chimes sing.

Her death had been sudden, completely unexpected, but she had gone in her sleep, an effortless, peaceful passing. Her doctor had always been in awe of how healthy she had been for a woman her age. Ninety six, to be exact. A long, fulfilling life.  But somehow, that didn’t make standing here, looking at her name carvedin stone any less painful.

Sanada’s eyes prickled as her favorite saying came back to him. Where was the magic she always spoke of now? Why, if it truly existed, hadn’t it kept her with him, with his family? Sanada took a deep breath, and tore his eyes away from the grave marker. These thoughts were irrational, and he knew it. Death was inevitable, blaming it on forces that may or may not even exist was a childish avoidance of accepting the hand he had been dealt.

As he stood, reigning in his emotions, his thoughts turned to fond memories, ones he wanted to remember her by for the rest of his years. His grandmother had been there, with the rest of his family, when he had won nationals for the third time, when he held the trophy up high and proud in front of his team, as the best singles player in the entire country. While he was away training at the police academy, she had sent him letters, handwritten with slightly shaky strokes of a pen. When Sanada had asked her why she simply didn’t just email, she had told him that there was something more special about receiving a letter in the mail. To this day, Sanada made a point to write a handwritten letter to his closest friends and family once a year. And somewhere, stashed away in a box, he was sure he had kept the ones he had been given.

Still looking out at the village at the bottom of the hill, Sanada thought back to the stories he had so much enjoyed when he was younger. This village, his grandmother had told him, had been the inspiration for many a setting. It had never really been modernized over time, instead retaining its old style charm. There was a sense of peace here. It was no wonder that this was the place she had wanted to be her final resting place.

Taking one last breath, Sanada prepared himself to leave. He couldn’t let himself linger here. He turned his gaze back to the stone one last time, and his stomach dropped. There, right in front of the pillar, amongst the other wreaths and bouquets was a single flower. The blue hues stood out starkly against the grass, and though Sanada had not seen such a plant in years, it was immediately recognizable. And it had not been there, sticking up out of the soil as though it had been there for days, a minute ago. As if the floodgates of his deepest subconscious were suddenly blown open, waves of memories began to race to the forefront of Sanada’s mind. They flashed by wildly, quickly; a young boy –whose name was lost to him now- dressed in a beautiful yukata, days spent playing together until the sun set, a fleeting warmth in chest on that final day, the day before everything vanished-

Sanada whipped around, looking for any sign of another person, for someone had to have placed that flower in front of the grave. There was no one, not a soul on the hill with him.

Until he looked to the tree line of the deep woods that bordered the grassy expanse where he stood.

A lone figure, roughly fifty meters from Sanada, was watching him from the edge of the forest. Though he could not make out any details, whoever it was was garbed in a deep crimson robe, a shock of bright pigment against the natural colors of the environment surrounding them. As he stared, the figure continued to face him, fully aware that it had been noticed. Neither moved. Neither called out. The more Sanada looked, the more the skin on the back of his neck began to tingle. Whoever, whatever this was….it didn’t feel natural. His heart began to beat faster, thudding hard in his chest. Something tugged at the back of his mind, warning him not to run away.

Sanada squinted, trying to make out any other kind of detail. Finally, after seconds that seemed to stretch for hours, the figure moved, turned to retreat back into the woods.

A flash of long, navy hair caught the sun’s light. A spark of heat flared up in his chest.

His feet moved before his head could catch up. Without thinking, Sanada took off after the strange being, heart racing like it never had before. He couldn’t let this go, slip through his fingers for what might be the second time.

He tore across the grass in a dead run, not hesitating for a second as he reached the trees. The forest was dark, unfamiliar, but Sanada was not hindered by it. He couldn’t see his target, he was too far behind, but rustles in the cool silent air, or the barest flicker of scarlet fabric disappearing into the shadows lead him on. No time was spared to consider the fact that Sanada would most definitely get lost, or that this entire scene might be a figment of his grief stricken imagination.

On and on he went, ignoring the sharp aching in his legs and the burning in his lungs. He had to keep going, had to find out what had been there watching him. Without warning, the trees opened up, and Sanada found himself skidding to a halt in the middle of a small, circular clearing. Wildly he looked around, desperately looking for clues that might lead him on. But he saw nothing.

As the fatigue finally caught up with him, Sanada cursed himself in frustration. If only he had been quicker, yelled to get its attention, something, anything to slow the chase. And now here he was, lost in strange woods, utterly alone. He reached into his pocket, feeling for his cell phone, only to find the space where it had been empty. It must have fallen out while he was running.

If he were a man of lesser control, Sanada might have slammed his fist into the nearest tree in anger. But he had no one but himself to blame for this insane stunt.

It was only when he looked down, praying that his phone might be somewhere on the ground nearby that he noticed. The clearing in which he stood was full of delicate, sparkling blue flowers. The same one he had found on his grandmother’s grave. The same one the boy had given him, all those years ago.

Sanada’s rising fury retreated. This had to be real.

He remained still, waiting. For what, he did not know, but he was sure that he had been lead to this place for a reason. Sanada knelt down, finally taking the time to examine a nearby flower. He’d sworn he’d seen something similar around town before, but never in this color. Wracking his brains for the name, he gently ran his fingers across the small petals. He hadn’t been mistaken, there was definitely a soft shimmer to the velvety surface. No other flower he had seen had possessed such a quality.

 _Dahlia._ That was what his mother had called them. They used to bloom in the schoolyard in late May, in lovely shades of pink and white.

The silence around him was beginning to thicken. No breeze flitted through the leaves of the surrounding trees. No birds sang. It was as if this clearing was frozen, separated somehow from the rest of the world. Still, Sanada waited.

“If…if you’re there, whoever you are, I ask you to show yourself.” His deep voice seemed too loud, a disturbance of the almost eerie tranquility.

No sooner had Sanada’s last words dissipated into the air, did he hear a soft crackling behind him. He whipped around, hoping to find the one he had been after. Instead, he found that the bark of one of the trees had fallen away, revealing a strange symbol he had never seen before, etched into the thick, gnarled trunk. It was glowing faintly, a pale white light gently pulsing. A soft wind blew over Sanada’s cheeks, causing the branches to quiver. He made to approach the tree, investigate this odd happening further, but before he could, more cracking split the silence.

Not just one tree glowed now, but many, lining the clearing with more of the otherworldly characters. In sync, the pulsing light sped up, growing brighter and brighter until Sanada was forced to shield his eyes. As it intensified, so did the breeze, picking up from a light whisper to a roaring wind, whipping Sanada’s hair around his face mercilessly. The trees started to creak menacingly in the sudden hurricane, and Sanada stumbled, already rendered blind by the strong glare of the light surrounding him. Soon the gale was howling so forcefully that he could no longer hear anything above it. He realized his mistake, but it was too late, he couldn’t run, body held in place by the swirling vortex. He tried to cry out, but the air was sucked from his lungs the moment he opened his mouth.

A great rumble finally broke through the wind and the ground shook mightily, sending Sanada falling hard to the ground. He curled up, gasping and covering his head with his hands, hoping against hope that he’d make it out of this, that this madness, whatever it was, would soon be over.

Sanada was so wrapped up in his thoughts, trying to convince himself that this was all a horrible nightmare, that he didn’t notice the dying of the wind, or the recession of the lights. Slowly the renewed quiet seeped back into his senses. And yet, it wasn’t quite renewed, but a different quiet entirely. Right away Sanada noticed that the air had changed. It was warmer, sweeter smelling than the cool earthy scent of the forest he had ran into. Birds could be heard singing nearby, but something seemed off about their songs. They weren’t as harsh as the sounds he had grown so accustomed to.

Cautiously, Sanada cracked an eye open, deeming it safe enough to uncover his head.

Red silk pooled in front of his gaze, embroidered with intricate gold patterns. Drawing a shaky breath, Sanada raised his eyes up over the luxurious fabric, excited and yet afraid of what he might see of the wearer.

Brown eyes met sapphire. Bowed lips curved upward into a gentle smile. A voice smooth as liquid silver washed over his ears. Sanada forgot how to breathe.

“It’s been quite a while, hasn’t it Genichirou?”

The final piece of Sanada’s memory slammed into him with the force of canon fire.

_“Koichi.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go!! I'm finally writing my AU down. Hopefully you enjoy it, and thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

“Koichi…. I asked you to call me that, didn’t I? It seems like only yesterday…” He extended a hand to Sanada, who was still speechless on the ground.

As soon as their skin made contact, a sense of calmness washed over Sanada, instantly relaxing him. He allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, surprised at the strength hidden inside Koichi’s elegant figure.

“But now, I think, you deserve to know my true name. I am known here as Yukimura.” He continued to hold Sanada’s hand long after he had gotten to his feet, watching him with unwavering eyes.

 _Yukimura._ A fitting name for someone so beautiful, Sanada thought.

And then, he noticed the horns.

The color of polished ivory, they curved out of Yukimura’s long waves of hair at the top of his head. They were pronged, like the antlers of a stag, but rather than bend out, the horns extended straight and back, angled towards the sky.

Immediately, Sanada scrambled back with a yelp, all sense of calm completely forgotten. He squeezed his eyes shut, tried to breathe deeply. He must of tripped and fallen somewhere in the forest and hit his head. And this, whatever he was experiencing was just a bad dream, it wasn’t, _couldn’t_ be real. Because even the Yukimura he knew as a child, possessed no such horns as the one in front of him did now. He felt a hand on his shoulder and tensed up, ready to flee. He did not wish to fight this creature, whatever he was.

“Genichirou, please, let me explain. I realize this is…a lot, for you to take in.” Yukimura’s tone was gentle as he tried to reassure the taller man.

Slowly, Sanada opened his eyes, but still didn’t lower his guard. “What are you?” He fought to keep his voice even, from showing the fear winding through his body as he chanced another look at Yukimura’s horns. Which, to his dismay, where still very much present.

Yukimura sighed, knowing the question was inevitable. “In the simplest terms…” He thought for a moment, choosing his next words carefully. “I am a spirit. Though humans might consider me a demon, given my features…”

 _I’m still considering you a demon._ But Sanada knew better than to admit that thought out loud. Instead, he attempted to make any semblance of sense of this situation. “Ah…” He was briefly reminded of the shrine Yagyuu helped look after. “Like a kitsune?” Sanada tried, figuring that if Yukimura existed, whatever kind of spirit he was, kitsune might as well.

To his surprise, Yukimura brightened up, and he could see the nervous tension flow out of his shoulders as he smiled. “Yes, exactly like that. I happen to know several. That’s one part of mythology your kind happened to get right.”

“You…know several.” All of a sudden, Sanada’s head began to swirl. His vision flickered around the edges and his knees wobbled faintly, as though they were beginning to turn to gelatin. Yukimura was only creating more questions with the answers he gave, and they were threatening to overwhelm him. Taking a shaky step back, Sanada leaned heavily on the trunk of a nearby tree, breaths coming quicker. Not ten minutes ago he’d been standing at his grandmother’s grave, and now this, all of this, was too much, too fast. “I’m, I need-” _To get back, to know where the hell I am, that I’m not actually going crazy here._ But his lips were slow, heavy, unable to form any of his requests. He settled instead for focusing on quelling the feeling of nausea that was beginning to well up in the pit of his stomach. He reached down, jaw clenching as he delivered a hard pinch to his thigh. It hurt. He wasn’t dreaming, then.

Yukimura frowned, watching Sanada struggle. He’d watched him for longer than the dark haired man was aware of, he hadn’t expected him to react quite like this. He felt his own heartrate picking up in response to the other man’s distress, a dull unpleasantness plucking at his chest. Carefully, he edged closer to Sanada, taking his hand and squeezing lightly, focusing on slowing his own breathing and hoping, by proximity, Sanada would do the same. “It’s alright to be scared.” He murmured quietly. “To be honest, you’re handling this quite a lot better than I thought a human would.” It was the only encouragement he knew to offer. He stayed silent after that, deciding to let Sanada continue the conversation when he was ready.

Another gentle breeze filtered through the trees, and Sanada turned to look at Yukimura, really look at him. He didn’t speak as his eyes roved over his fine features, noting the small, shimmering turquoise scales dusting the refined, yet soft arch of his cheeks. Streaks of a similar color painted the skin under his eyes, accentuating beautifully the deep royal blue of the orbs above them. Sanada looked lower, taking in the perfect swoop of Yukimura’s lips, the delicate neck, dotted with more scales, the hollow of his throat and the barest hint of collarbone before his pale skin was swallowed up by his scarlet yukata. If truly, Yukimura was a demon, rather than the kind spirit he claimed to be, he was an enchanting one.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Sanada spoke again. “You aren’t a kitsune. I’ve never read about any creature that looks like you in any old stories, or seen anything in artworks or plays. So….I’ll ask again. What are you?” He steeled himself, unsure of the answer he might receive, or if he even wanted to hear it. But try as he might to fight the urge, he couldn’t resist playing into this. He wanted to know more before he decided whether or not to attempt escape.

For the briefest moment, Yukimura’s eyes flashed from sapphire to gold, pupils elongating into thin slits. “Hmm… Don’t you know a dragon when you see one?” He grinned, showing off sharp canine teeth

 A shiver shot up Sanada’s spine. He may not have recognized Yukimura for what he was, but he was well aware of the power that was associated with dragons. They were the symbol of royalty, of divine grace and strength. And apparently, one was standing right in front of him. He would be lying if he didn’t find that more than a little bit intimidating. And Sanada never allowed himself to be dishonest. He would have to be even more wary from now on.

But still, the question that had been nagging him since he had first spotted Yukimura on the hill refused to let itself be forgotten. “When I was younger… That was you, wasn’t it? The boy I met during the summer.” Sanada’s voice was rough with barely concealed emotion as he spoke. Of this, he had to be sure, before he ventured any further.

“It was.” Yukimura confirmed, playful smile tempering down into something more tender, nostalgic even. “That was our first meeting.” The meeting that, unbeknownst to Sanada, sealed both of their fates.

“Then why…why did you leave so suddenly?” _I thought I had dreamt the whole thing._ There was no anger in Sanada’s words, only confusion and perhaps, if Yukimura wasn’t imagining things…hurt?

But barring that, they had finally come to one of the many snags Yukimura had hoped he might avoid. “I didn’t mean to depart in that manner. But…certain matters here called me back. And I can only stay in the human world for so long.” He was very careful to meet Sanada’s eyes, not wanting to give him any reason not to believe him. This second encounter had to go smoothly. He stroked his thumb over the back of Sanada’s hand. “I’m sorry. I realize now that it must have been hard for you.” It certainly hadn’t been easy for him, at any rate. The hollowness in his heart had lasted for a long time afterwards, and it while it lessened, the feeling never completely faded.

Personally, Sanada didn’t think Yukimura had any idea how much of a bump that summer had put into what was an otherwise completely normal childhood. He’d clung to the hope that his friend would return for months after he had left, before finally pushing the memories away into his subconscious where they could no longer plague and pain him.

He continued to press on with his questioning. He was owed these answers, at the very least. “Why me, then? Why just up and leave, only to… to kidnap me here almost twenty years later?” Sanada’s head was starting to hurt, it seemed like the more questions he asked, the less he knew. The unrelenting confusion was starting to irritate him, like a hot poker prodding at his mind.

“I know twenty years is a long time for a human.” Yukimura started, keeping his voice soft as he sensed Sanada’s budding annoyance. “But for spirits like me, it’s no more than a single year, if even that. From my perspective, it hasn’t been long at all since I first saw you. As for the kidnapping…” He shrugged, “you followed me, didn’t you? I didn’t ask for you to chase me. But I won’t deny I’m pleased that you did.” And with that, it was time to play his ace.

Sanada’s breath caught as Yukimura peered up at him through long eyelashes, temporarily forgetting about his exasperation.

“I must admit… I missed you, Genichirou. I enjoyed your company when you were a child… I’m eager to experience it in adulthood as well…” _I need you to stay here._

Sanada pulled his hand out of Yukimura’s, briefly noting the sudden emptiness that flashed through him. Rubbing it over his face, he sighed. “This…is insane. I barely even know you, actually, I don’t know anything about you, as you just told me Koichi wasn’t even your real name.”

“Then why did you run after me?”

The question was so simple, and yet, as Sanada wracked his brains for an answer, he couldn’t provide one. “I don’t know.” He grudgingly admitted, the hand at his side clenching into a fist involuntarily. If he were being honest with himself, the thing scaring him the most was how little he was reacting to this entire situation, to Yukimura, to the fact that all of those stories from his childhood were, as it turned out, all too real. Just as he had been when he first encountered Yukimura all those years ago, the unknown didn’t seem nearly as daunting as it should have, even something this extreme.

Yukimura fought back a smile, he knew the chances of Sanada running now were slim to none. He reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind a pointed ear. “You were so kind to me when you were younger, without even knowing who I was or where I had come from. Let me show you that same kindness.” Slowly, he reached out, brushing the backs of his fingers over Sanada’s jaw, just the barest hint of a touch. “Let me show you my world.”

Subtly leaning into the light contact, there was only one answer Sanada could give. Something about Yukimura drew him in, captivated him in ways he couldn’t yet put words to. This could be dangerous, letting himself be pulled forth into such unfamiliar territory, surrounded by forces which were foreign to him in every way. But that the same time, there was a part of him that wanted this, had unconsciously longed for it for years. Here was a chance to solve his life’s greatest mystery. He had to take it.

Sanada drew a shaky breath, before straightening, pushing off the trunk of the tree to stand fully in front of Yukimura.

“Yes.”

 

***

 

Tokugawa Kazuya stepped inside his apartment, making sure to lock the door behind him. Not that he expected any visitors, or even intruders. One would have to have friends, or enemies, to worry about that. He wasn’t bothered by this, however, always too wrapped up in his studies to devote any attention to having a social life. His area of study was ancient Japanese literature, and the department had recently come across a trove of rare, recently discovered old books.

And Tokugawa had been lucky enough to snag one to look over. And by snag, he meant that he had snuck it into his bag before primary inventory had been taken. As he walked by his small kitchen, he briefly considered making himself some supper, but squashed the thought almost immediately. He had to get a look at that book first.

Only bothering to switch on his desk lamp, casting a dim yellow light over his small workspace, Tokugawa sat down, retrieving his reading glasses and reaching into his bag to pull out the envelope that held his precious tome. Lead lined as an extra precaution, just so the library’s security sensors wouldn’t pick it up. Before daring to open it though, he opened one of the drawers of his desk, and took out a pair or gloves. This was a normal practice in the history departments; skin oils could harm and deteriorate old documents. Which was a risk he couldn’t afford to take, especially now.

Equipped with the proper protection, Tokugawa took the letter opener he kept on his desk and slit the top of the package. And slowly, carefully, he extracted his prize. The book looked every bit its age, the pages were a deep yellow, crinkled and torn at the edges. As much as he wanted to look inside, Tokugawa took his time observing every detail of the outer protection. The book in itself was an anomaly; almost all ancient texts came in the form of scrolls, or folded papers. Bound books from this time period were nearly always found in the western parts of the world.

The cover, while fragile looking, was beautiful, though only two of the many polished stones that were once inlaid in the cover remained. There was no title, not even any characters adorning it. Though judging by the size of the crater in the center of the leather, the stone that once adorned the space must have been magnificent. The spine, Tokugawa avoided touching for now. He didn’t know the condition of the stitching inside, and didn’t want to risk damaging it before further investigations of the inner pages began.

Satisfied with the book’s outer condition, Tokugawa took a deep breath, preparing himself for the main event. In doing so, he caught a faint whiff of the artifact’s scent. Earthy, old, and something that smelled strangely like sulfur. That made the man pause for a moment. Perhaps the book had been retrieved from a site near a volcano. Which made him worry even more about the condition of the pages inside. He had to look.

With utmost care, Tokugawa pulled back the cover. A tingle shot through his fingers and up his arm, making him shiver as a rush of the same strange smell hit his nose. On the first page, again, there was no writing, but this time a small illustration sat in the center of the page. It looked like a circle of trees, with a star shining above them. Tokugawa had to look closely to make out the star, the ink had almost completely faded away, leaving only the barest outline. Not seeing other markings that seemed important, he turned to the next page.

Here was the writing he had been looking for. But at the same time, it wasn’t at all what he expected. Characters written in neat, even lines covered the page, but they weren’t like any Tokugawa had ever seen. He was well versed in identifying old Japanese and even Chinese scripts, but the language written here didn’t resemble any of the ones he was familiar with. His heart skipped a beat. This was getting _very_ exciting, and the possibility of discovering a new ancient language immediately jumped to the forefront of his mind. He took a brief pause to grab his phone and snap a picture of the page, making doubly sure that the flash on his camera was shut off. He may eventually have to return the book, but he didn’t want to part with the unknown information it contained.

As he drew his finger over the page, his bared wrist slid against the edges, slicing the thin skin open. Tokugawa swore under his breath, quickly jerking his hand away from the book, not wanting to accidentally taint it with his blood. But his efforts were wasted, and he watched in horror as the small drop of fluid that had welled up from the shallow cut fell. The vermillion stain stood out sharply in the old pages, and Tokugawa felt his stomach plummet. He’d taken this artifact, this newly discovered treasure, and ruined it.

Angrier at himself than he had ever been, Tokugawa snarled, raking his fingers roughly through his hair. This was an irreversible mistake, the book was now forever altered beyond repair. Being wary of papercuts was something even the newest undergraduate students knew, and in his exhilaration, he had forgotten to be careful. He dragged his nails over his cheeks, creating faint red scratches even through the latex gloves. He couldn’t return this book now. If his advisors knew what he had done, he’d be expelled from the program for sure.

With a shaky hand, he grabbed a tissue from the box on his desk, hoping he could sop up even some of the blood and minimize the damage. He looked back to the small splotch on the page, and to his amazement, watched as it faded away completely. The relieved surprise lasted all of a second before he realized that it might now had bled through to the page beneath. Tokugawa scrambled to turn the page, but before he could, the characters on the page flared with light, the color of the blood he had just spilled. And as if that wasn’t shocking enough, what happened next nearly caused the dark haired man to topple out of his chair.

_“Hello, Tokugawa Kazuya.”_

The voice that resounded in his head was soft, a quiet whisper. But it was enough to shock his body, muscles tensing to render him frozen in his seat.

_“It’s been quite a while since anyone dared to activate a contract. My name is Irie. I won’t harm you.”_

Contract…? But he hadn’t signed anything, he hadn’t even known what the strange writing had said.

The voice in his head hummed. _“Ignorance won’t release you now. But don’t worry. You’ll get something from this. Any wish you want, I’ll grant. And in return, you’ll help me. What’s the human expression…? Ah, yes. I’ll scratch your back, you scratch mine.”_

But Tokugawa was no longer paying attention, he’d gotten hung up at the mention of a wish. If this Irie, whatever it was, could grant any wish… He could be the most renowned scholar in his field. Famous, worldwide. People would look to him for advice and opinions. Any books he wrote would be the new classroom standard. Just thinking about it, the corners of his lips twitched upward unconsciously.

_“Such big dreams…very admirable. An easy request for me to fulfil. So, Kazuya, will you accept the terms of the contract?”_

There was no deliberation necessary. “I do.” Tokugawa murmured aloud, breaking the stillness of his apartment.

 _“Excellent.”_ He could feel the alien presence smile. _“I look forward to working with you.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic isn't going to progress along one line, it'll jump between different characters. There will also be side stories among the main plot chapters, but I'll let you know at the beginning in case you wanna skip it. But anyway [Here's what Yukimura looks like!](http://homoerotic-volleyball-montage.tumblr.com/post/132586682429/dragonyukimura-to-soothe-the-soul-also-i-may-or) [And one in color.](http://homoerotic-volleyball-montage.tumblr.com/post/133635289654/oh-to-be-a-dragon-a-symbol-of-the-power-of) They're older works, I might do another one of him at some point along with the other character sketches!
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long absence! But school and finals and my EMT class are officially over, so I should have much more time to write.

If someone had told Sanada a week ago that he’d be standing in a hidden world of magic, conversing with a dragon, he most likely would have recommended them to the nearest hospital, because clearly they must had to have ingested some kind of drug to make such a statement.

But here he was, walking beside Yukimura as they made their way through the softly lit forest. The deciduous canopy was so thick that only the occasional beam of late afternoon sunlight managed to reach the ground, looking like glowing columns. The grass that they walked on was long and emerald green, more lush than any meadow he had seen. Glancing down, Sanada noticed that Yukimura wasn’t wearing any kind of shoes as they made their way along. The ground must be exceptionally soft, then. Or perhaps dragons had no need for footwear at all. They passed occasional thickets of brush and patches of wildflowers. Some, Sanada recognized, like crocuses or violets. Others though, he had never seen, and suspected that if he searched the world over back home, he would not find the beautifully strange, vibrant blooms anywhere.

Surrounded by such quiet calm, Sanada was surprised that no animals had yet crossed their path. He could hear birds, but never caught glimpses of them. He supposed they must be too high up in the trees, hidden from view by the dense expanse of leaves. But still. He had expected at least a rabbit, or perhaps a deer. Yukimura’s silent, serene presence seemed like the type to attract even the most timid woodland dwellers. _What am I thinking?_ He caught himself after a moment. This wasn’t a children’s movie, and Yukimura certainly wasn’t a shy, demure princess. Given what he was, really, it made more sense that other creatures might actively avoid getting to close to him.

After what might have been an hour – Sanada honestly had no idea, he had completely lost track of time – he finally broke the silence. “You haven’t told me where exactly we’re going.”

Without missing a beat, Yukimura responded. “You haven’t asked where we’re going.”

“I’m asking now.”

The navy haired man smiled, but didn’t stop to answer Sanada’s question. Night was beginning to fall, and he wanted to reach their destination before the forest became decidedly less tranquil. “We’re going to see a dear friend of mine. He’ll be interested to meet you, I think.”

That made enough sense. “Humans don’t find their way here often, I suppose.” Sanada murmured. As the pair continued on and dusk fell ever quicker, the ground began to slope downward, and the trees they passed grew more and more separate.

Yukimura shook his head. “You aren’t the first, as far as I am aware… But there have certainly been very few. You’re the first in my lifetime, at least.” There were records, buried deep in the libraries of his home, which must have detailed those rare encounters, but he’d never really been interested enough to peruse them.

Somehow, every time Sanada received an answer, it was accompanied by even more questions. It was beginning to get just slightly tiresome. He glanced at Yukimura, looking him over. If he had not suspected otherwise, he would have guessed the other to be somewhere near his own age, perhaps a bit younger. “How old are you, exactly?” Sanada questioned, genuinely curious.

The light laugh his wondering earned was a sound that Sanada definitely wouldn’t mind hearing more often, especially with the way it made his stomach flutter. “I’m young by a spirit’s standards, but certainly not yours. Here we don’t really bother to keep as precise track of our age as humans, so I can only give a rough estimate but… I’m just over two thousand years old.” Seeing Sanada’s shocked expression upon the admittance, Yukimura quickly added, “but really, that’s about the equivalent of a twenty year old human, I believe.”

Two thousand years… Sanada couldn’t even begin to comprehend what that must feel like, to have lived so long. And by what Yukimura had told him, he still had thousands of years ahead of him.

Upon noticing that his companion had gone silent, Yukimura spoke again. “I know that must seem like forever to you… But time passes differently here. To me, two thousand of your years feels like a relatively short span. But you shouldn’t worry too much,” he added as Sanada frowned, trying to do mental calculations, “it’s hardly important.”

Just as Sanada was about to open his mouth, to counter that yes, he wanted to know more about the strange time difference, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Though the forest was considerably less dense than before, the sun had set, leaving none but the thin light of the moon to illuminate their path. Yukimura must have seen it as well, as he took Sanada’s hand, subtly urging him along faster.

As soon as they made contact, the darkness seemed to close in quickly, almost as if it had a mind of its own, swallowing up the ground behind them. Sanada glanced over his shoulder, swore he saw what looked like a single blue flame hovering above the ground. But the moment he blinked, not quite believing what he saw, it had disappeared.

“The forest is closing its borders for the night. I may go unharmed, but I can’t ensure the same for you. Hurry.” Yukimura kept his voice hushed, eyes flicking around them, constantly surveying their surroundings. It wasn’t long before the moonlight once again began to grow brighter, and Sanada found himself standing in an open field, laid out at the foot of great mountain range. A cool night wind caressed his cheeks, and he sighed, taking in the landscape. The mountains in the distance were beautiful but intimidating, jagged peaks capped with snow that cascaded down the face. A wide river ran in front of it, twisting and winding around small hills, water shimmering in the cold lunar glow. But a look back at the forest they had left let Sanada know immediately that the seemingly peaceful nightscape was a farce.

The shadows between the trees definitely looked like they were moving of their own accord now, whirling and writhing just inside the tree line, waiting for an intruder. Sanada shuddered, glad to be out in the open. “Is your friend meeting us here?” He wondered. Surely if there had to be habitation of some kind to house these spirits, though he had not yet seen any. Even in the distance, there was no indication of any towns, or even single homes.

But Yukimura shook his head. “Oh no. We’re going to him, to his home in the mountains.” He rolled his eyes fondly. “He prefers not to leave his comforts unless motivated.”

Sanada felt his head spin. How many hours had they already been walking? His feet were already beginning to feel soreness, and upon looking down, he remembered that he was still wearing his formal leather shoes from the funeral, as well as the rest of his suit. He guessed it would take a day or more reach the mountains, and then there was the task of climbing them, which he was less than prepared for.  

Sanada was about to suggest resting here for the night, on the ground, because it was warm enough out and a better option than the forest behind them, when Yukimura grabbed his hand yet again and ushered him close. Now nearly pressed flush against the slightly shorter man’s side, Sanada blushed as he caught the subtle scent of flowers, and something else sweet he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Yukimura…?”

“Hold onto me, Genichirou. I’d hate for you to get lost on the way.” Yukimura reached into the neck of his robe, pulling out an ornate silver kiseru pipe from its silken folds. Holding it delicately in one hand, he snapped his fingers twice over the small bowl on the end, and Sanada watched in amazement as the tiniest of flames began to burn inside.

Smoke began to curl up out of the pipe, and Yukimura turned to look up at Sanada, grinning. “I hope you didn’t think we’d be going on foot, did you? I’d take you by flight but…” He sighed, smile lessening somewhat. “I don’t think you’re quite ready for that yet. It might be one too many shocks in one day, and humans are so very fragile.”

Sanada raised an eyebrow, but didn’t question what Yukimura meant by flight. Although he had an idea. “How exactly are we getting there, then?”

“Wind travel. Arm around my waist please, don’t be shy.” He raised the pipe to his lips and took a long inhale, closing his eyes in contentment.

Distracted by the way Yukimura’s lips fit around the delicate end of the pipe, Sanada did as instructed. He absently noted the soft curve of his hip as his hand settled over the layers of his clothing.

Finally, Yukimura drew the pipe away to exhale, a long, thin tendril of smoke curling out from between his lips. Lazily it drifted through the air, seemingly aimless, until Sanada realized it was actually forming itself into a shape, another of the strange characters he had encountered in the woods. And like the others, it began to glow a faint, dull lilac as soon as it was fully formed, the remainder of the smoke dissipating away into the night. Yukimura carefully extinguished the flame in the pipe, and tucked it away once again, before securing his own hold around Sanada’s middle. The smoke symbol continued to hover in front of them, never breaking form even as the smoke danced within its confines.

“You’ll feel a harsh shove at first. It’ll feel like you’re going to fall, but you won’t. I’d also suggest keeping your eyes closed, for your own comfort.” Yukimura warned. “It will be over before you know it.”

It seemed discomfort was an unavoidable part of magical transportation, and Sanada quickly resigned himself to that fact. He nodded, letting the other man know he understood. His grip unconsciously tightened as he closed his eyes. "I'm ready.”

Reaching out, Yukimura cupped the floating smoke in his hand, before blowing gently on it. As he blew, the symbol turned from gray-violet to a glittering gold. One more breath, and this time, the vapor began to lose its shape, particles scattering in the breeze and flitting up and away, lost to the night sky.

Whether it was out of nerves, or purely a desire to see the forest one last time before he was swept off to the mountains by a magical force he didn’t trust in the slightest, Sanada couldn’t help but open his eyes again, only for a fraction of a second. But in that microscopic span of time, he caught sight of the only change in the landscape, something that had to have appeared just after Yukimura blew the smoky rune away.

A great stag, larger than any Sanada had seen in any nature program or book, stood just beyond the forest edge. The dark outline of its antlers clearly visible, it remained tall and still, making no moves toward the pair.

And suddenly, just as Yukimura promised, a strong, blunt force slammed into Sanada’s lower back, knocking him off his feet and thoroughly ejecting any fleeting thoughts of the mysterious stag. But he never fell. Instead, he felt like he was skyrocketing upward, like an elevator with no limit. His stomach clenched, flipping and churning as if it was trying to make its way up into his throat. But then, to his immense relief, the sensation began to slow, almost as if he was coming to a stop. Sanada very nearly opened his eyes, thinking that this unfortunate experience might finally be over, when he heard Yukimura’s silky voice murmur, “Not quite yet. That was only the first part.”

Right. The falling.

If Sanada’s stomach had been up in his mouth a second ago, it was now felt as though it was at the very opposite end of his body. Cold, almost icy air currents exploded up around him, he felt as though he was plummeting thousands of feet, there was no way he’d stop in time, what had Yukimura gotten him into-

Sanada felt the solid ground beneath his feet. The touchdown had been so light, so sudden it hadn’t even registered with him. Entire body now quivering from the recent shock, he cautiously opened his eyes.

The chill he had felt earlier made sense, now.

He couldn’t even make out the grassy field he had stood in just moments ago, nor did he want to try for very long. Sanada wasn’t sure how high up he was, but looking down over the side of the mountain and seeing the thick, foggy clouds below him gave a very good indication. Sparse tufts of pale grass stuck out defiantly from between the cracks in the surface of the rock. There was no snow around him, but looking up, he saw a blanket of white on the sloping face, extending high up into yet another cloud layer.

Yukimura let Sanada take in his surroundings for a moment, giving him a quick once over to make sure he wasn’t too shaken. Pleased with his findings, he recaptured the his attention. “Come, there’s only a short walk left. You might catch a cold if you stand out here too long.”

A shiver ran up Sanada’s spine, and he was inclined to agree. Falling into step with Yukimura, he felt he should voice his opinion on their method of arrival. “That was very unpleasant.” He grumbled, frowning slightly. “Do all your ways of transportation involve taking years off your life?” While Yukimura may have thousands of years left to his existence, Sanada definitely didn’t. And at this rate he felt like he had already lost some of the few he had.

Unsurprisingly, the man beside him only laughed. “Oh, you’ll get used to it.” Yukimura chirped, shrugging his shoulders. “It only feels horrible because you’ve never done it before.”

“Well, I’m not planning in repeating that particular experience.” Sanada shot back.

“Human frailty never ceases to amaze me.”

The two continued to argue lightheartedly, and the uneven ground began to smooth out underneath their feet, until Sanada looked down to find himself walking on a cut stone walkway. Small walls of stacked rock began to line the path, but as he looked ahead, it seemed to lead to nowhere, cutting off harshly in front a steep section of mountainside. It was odd, but even moreso were the giant statues flanking either side of the polished trail.

Easily over ten feet high, creatures that resembled Shisa lion dogs sat proudly on sharply cut pedestals. Their mouths were carved in a snarling expression, baring long, sharp fangs. Large, curly manes surrounded their necks and trailed down their chests, almost reaching the forelegs, at the end of which were thick, clawed paws. Looking at their fierce expressions, so meticulously sculpted, Sanada almost believed they might jump off the pedestals at any moment.

The second Sanada and Yukimura came within twenty feet of the statues, a loud, grating sound of stone on stone began to rumble though the air. Sanada’s head snapped up, searching for the falling boulders of a large rockslide, but saw none. He looked back to the path, and nearly tripped over his own feet as he took a hasty step back, shock and fear lancing through his heart. The Shisa dogs were indeed climbing down from their pedestals, rock seeming to melt from their bodies, revealing very real fur, teeth, and fangs beneath.

They prowled towards Yukimura and Sanada, plumed tails lashing behind them. The one nearest Yukimura was the taller of the two, covered in deep charcoal fur, shining almost blue in the faint moonlight that managed to pierce the fog. The other contrasted fantastically, its gold coat standing out harshly against the shades of gray. Where the other’s forehead was free of markings, this one had a single spot of black, matching its choppy looking mane and tail.

“Chitose, Tachibana, it’s alright. Genichirou is my guest.” Yukimura calmly reprimanded them as Sanada tried, for the umpteenth time that day, to come to terms with was happening in front of him.

As soon as Yukimura spoke, the giant dogs sat back on their haunches, menacing expressions replaced with something that vaguely resembled delight, floppy ears flicked forward and tails sweeping over the stone.  Sanada couldn’t quite be sure if that was supposed to be a comforting gesture, he still couldn’t look away from their enormous canine teeth, which had to be as long as steak knives at least.

Luckily, he didn’t have to look at them long. In a flash of light, the beasts were gone, replaced by two men, dressed in heavy woolen tunics, mesh vests barely visible underneath, with thick fur lined cloaks draped about their shoulders. The velvety, triangular ears and elongated canines remained a distinct part of their features. The blond, Tachibana, bowed low. “Good evening, Your Grace. I apologize for the…more aggressive reception. We weren’t aware that you would have someone with you.”

Chitose bowed as well, but tilted his head as he straightened. “You know, maybe Lord Atobe did mention a new visitor….”

“…That would have been great if you had recalled that important bit of information an hour ago. Thanks, Senri.” Tachibana sighed, trying not to let his irritation show in front of Yukimura.

But Yukimura didn’t seem troubled at all. “It’s no matter, no harm done. And please, there’s no need for such formality.” His eyes flicked to Sanada, who had stiffened slightly when Tachibana had addressed him so grandly.

“As you wish, then. But, you should get out of the cold.” Tachibana and Chitose turned, beckoning Sanada and Yukimura to the flat face of rock behind their pedestals. Together, they pressed their hands to the rough surface. Instantly, the stone sprung to life, giant swirls of luminescent blue snaking up to create the intricate outline of a massive set of double doors. As the outline glowed brighter, the stone faded away to reveal dark wood in its place. In the center of each door were more runes, which by now Sanada recognized as the written form of whatever magic the spirits of this realm wielded. One small push from the Shisas’ hands, and the doors swung open effortlessly. In unison, they faced Sanada and Yukimura again, bowing for a second time.

“Welcome to Suishoutoshi, city of hidden light.”

 

It certainly lived up to its name. Sanada had expected the inside of a mountain to be dark and cold, lit by barely burning fires. He had expected the air to be stagnant, musty even. That couldn’t have been farther from the truth. The immense hall that Sanada found himself stepping into was bright, warm, and frankly, awe-inspiring. Thick, carved columns of stone grew up from the floor, melting into the high, vaulted ceiling. It had to be fifteen meters at least. The floor was even more impressive, dark polished marble streaked with that looked like silver, or some other fine metal. But the thing that drew Sanada’s eye were the clusters of crystal. Pure white and sparkling like stars, they grew out from the top of every column, surrounding them like halos. But that was not all. Each ring radiated light, seemly coming from inside the crystals themselves, bathing the entire hall in a warm glow. More, smaller stalactites grew from the highest points of the ceiling, looking like natural candelabras.

Yukimura couldn’t help but smile at Sanada’s utterly stunned expression. He probably hadn’t even noticed that the hall was sparsely populated by other spirits, milling about in similar states of dress as Tachibana and Chitose. With a gentle hand at Sanada’s lower back, Yukimura prompted him to walk forward, down the center of the long hall, where other sets of doors and various corridors dotted the walls.

“This is…amazing…” There was no other word for it, at least none that Sanada could think of at the moment.

“Mm, it is quite an impressive feat of architecture. The rest of the city is just as grand. Atobe never does anything halfway.” The other spirits were starting to stare now, caused by a combination of Yukimura’s arrival and the strange man he had with him, dressed in clothes the likes of which they had never seen before. But no one dared question it, at least out loud.

Sanada paused his admiring to look curiously at Yukimura. “This Atobe, he’s the one we’re meeting, yes?” It was the only name Sanada had heard mentioned multiple times. And one of those, he was referred to as _Lord_. He also remembered the way he Yukimura had been addressed. _‘Your Grace’_. _Just who is Yukimura, really?_ Sanada thought, careful not to outwardly frown. The entire time he had been with him, Sanada had the feeling that he hadn’t quite told him everything, only enough to satisfy his immediate questions.

But before he could wonder any further, he was snapped out of this thoughts by Yukimura stopping in front of another rune covered set of doors. In the center of these however, was a carving of what looked like the head of some sort of wildcat. Yukimura knocked thrice, and not a moment later, one of the doors opened, and a tall, silver haired man stepped out, making sure to close the large wooden door behind him. Like Tachibana and Chitose, he wore a tunic and cape, but this time, Sanada saw a long sheathed sword strapped to his belt. It looked quite heavy, even for someone of his size and muscular looking build. Sharp, pointed ears poked out of his somewhat wild hair, and Sanada caught a glimpse of a matching white wolf’s tail twitching faintly behind him. He too, bowed to Yukimura. “Lord Atobe wishes to have a short private audience with your guest, Your Excellency.”

There it was again, another opulent title.

Yukimura frowned. “I was not informed of any such requests when we discussed this earlier.” He turned his gaze to Sanada. “I apologize, Genichirou, I would have told you had I known.” He snorted quietly. “He’ll probably try and intimidate you. Don’t be phased by it, I assure you it’s mostly just bravado. He’s not malicious.”

 Considering all of the unnatural, potentially life threatening things Sanada had already seen and done today, he was sure that whoever this ‘Lord Atobe’ was, he could handle meeting him alone. He’d brought down criminals and thugs alike as a police officer, he knew how to defend himself should anything go sideways. He nodded toward Yukimura. “Don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Smiling warmly, a tendril of pride curling inside Yukimura’s chest, he addressed the man that had greeted them. “Alright Ootori, Atobe will let me know when he’s finished with whatever business he sees fit to attend to.”

Sanada rolled his shoulders, straitening his posture and drawing himself up as much as he could manage, before following Ootori through the reopened door.

If the crystals in the hall had been impressive, it was nothing compared to the one that sprouted out from the center of the raised ceiling in this room. This cluster was bigger than any in the hall before, the largest center crystal growing down far enough so that it was nearly touching what looked to be a silver throne, set upon a raised dais. The cluster in its entirety had to be roughly length and width of a tennis court, perhaps just a touch shorter. This one, like the others, also glowed brightly, the longest crystal creating a beam that settled right over the throne. The only thing missing from the chair, was someone sitting in it.

“So you’re the human I’ve heard so much about.”

The low growl echoed in the chamber, and Sanada heard something heavy hit the ground some distance behind him. He whirled on the spot, turning to face what he presumed would be Lord Atobe.

Yukimura had told him not to worry. But it was very hard not to, when Sanada found himself staring into the eyes of what was unmistakably a snow leopard, roughly the size of a horse, slinking menacingly toward him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As more characters get introduced, I'll add a link to a list of each one and which spirit they are. Because there are going to be a LOT of people in this fic, and a list will help keep track of them all. As always, thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! If you have any questions, comments, or just wanna talk about tenipuri in general, message me on my [tumblr](http://homoerotic-volleyball-montage.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> UPDATE: my friend genikrispies on tumblr drew some AMAZING [fanart](http://genikrispies.tumblr.com/post/147627979818/homoerotic-volleyball-montages-dragon) of Yukimura and I just have to show all of my readers!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy heck I am so sorry for the long wait. You'd think now that it's summer I have more free time, but sadly it's the opposite. But I'm not giving up on this project!

Paws the size of dinner plates moved in dead silence over the smooth marble floors, despite the cat’s immense weight. His lips were pulled back in a fearsome snarl, and Sanada’s eyes were drawn to the long, sharp canines that protruded almost completely past his lower jaw. He couldn’t help the shudder that ran through his body. Of all the creatures he’d met so far, this one seemed most likely to harm him. And Yukimura wasn’t here this time, as he had been with Chitose and Tachibana. 

Careful never to turn away from Atobe, Sanada stepped back, not daring to speak as he did his best to keep distance between the two of them. Without warning, Atobe leapt, a clawed paw striking out with lightning like quickness, narrowly missing Sanada’s jugular. He fell back with a strangled cry, landing hard, and eyes wide in fear. Sanada’s entire body shook as his breaths came fast and irregular, but unable to move as Atobe lowered his head, jaws just inches from his face. He stared him down with daunting gold eyes that seemed to glow in the light of the crystals, the sparkle in his irises not quite natural. 

“You will answer me when I speak to you.” It was an order, pure and simple, and Sanada was all too aware of the deadly consequence of disobedience that was left unsaid. “Now, let’s try again.”

Sanada swallowed, cold sweat beading on his brow. “I-”, his voice was raspy, mouth dry from sudden terror, “I am. A human.” He had all but forgotten that Yukimura was just outside the doors, of his promise that nothing bad would befall him. Survival was the only thing on his mind now.

Atobe’s eyes narrowed and his ears flicked back to lay flat against his skull. “And what is it you want with Yukimura?”

"Nothing, he brought me here." It took everything Sanada had to keep his voice low and even, as his hands quivered madly against the cold floor.

That seemed to have struck something within Atobe, expression morphing from aggression into thinly veiled...could that be confusion in the way his ears twitched? Sanada wasn't quite sure, nor focused enough to allow that observation more than a flitting pass across his mind.

Atobe finally spoke again. "Why," he demanded, rather than asked.

And that was the crux of the matter, Sanada thought, internally flinching at the command. He had a feeling he didn't know the entirety of the reason behind his sudden appearance in this new world. "He... He said-" Sanada had no choice but to state the only truth he knew. "He said he missed me." Sanada grit his teeth, waiting for Atobe to take another swipe at him for such a flowery, false sounding answer.

But rather than claw his face to shreds, Atobe pressed a thick, weighty paw against Sanada's chest, nearly squeezing the breath from his lungs. Hot breath caressed Sanada's cheek as he opened his mouth, letting him get a terrifyingly close view of his many knife-sharp teeth.

"I see no untruths in your heart," said Atobe, the deadly edge gone from his rumbling growl. And to Sanada's immense relief, the pressure on his sternum disappeared, and the leopard retreated, long tail sweeping the ground behind him. 

Sanada rose quickly, but nearly fell the moment he got to his feet. His legs were still very unsteady, his body not quite realizing that the danger had passed for the moment. As he fought to right himself, there was a burst of ice blue light, and when he looked up again, the giant cat had gone. 

In his place stood a very handsome man with feathery gray hair, sharp eyebrows, and piercing slate colored eyes. Adorning the ridges of his cheeks were charcoal spots that resembled those of the leopard, followed by a bending stripe under each eye. Like the other spirits Sanada had encountered, Atobe retained the feline ears and thick, soft looking tail, which curled out behind him, the tip waving back and forth on occasion. 

He looked every bit the lord Sanada had heard him to be, dressed in a fitted wool tunic, fine silver mesh undershirt, and a luxurious fur lined cloak sitting over the top of it all. Shined, knee high leather boots covered his feet, giving way to dark leggings at their end. A sword hung from a belt clasped around Atobe's waist, and Sanada didn’t miss the way the hilt was lavishly decorated, engraved with intricate swirling patterns and inlaid with precious stones. He smirked at Sanada, before waving a hand at the large doors he had come through. 

Almost immediately Ootori entered, voice echoing as he announced the newest arrival. "Lord Atobe welcomes his grace, High Lord Yukimura to the throne room!"

Yukimura stepped through into the room, thanking Ootori quietly as the other left. He strode over to Atobe, smiling, and rather than greet him formally, wrapped him in a tight hug. 

"Welcome back, Yukimura," Atobe grinned, not bothering to bow to his friend as the other spirits had. 

Yukimura returned his smile, before turning to look at Sanada. He must still have been very pale and shaken, Sanada realized, as Yukimura looked back to Atobe, frowning. "I do hope you haven't scared Genichirou too badly, I was rather hoping to leave him with a good impression of this world and its inhabitants, not make him want to leave us as soon as he can." 

But Atobe just rolled his eyes, unconcerned. "Oh, he's fine. We had a short little chat, that's all. I needed to make sure he was worthy of you."

Sanada reigned in the urge to snort derisively. That aggressive interrogation had been no more a 'little chat', than Atobe himself was a harmless kitten. But whatever ridiculous test Atobe had meant to set upon him, he had apparently passed, so Sanada supposed he was lucky for that, at least. 

"As much as I appreciate the concern, I think I'm a good enough judge of character to decide these things for myself." Yukimura replied dryly, before moving over to Sanada. 

The moment their bodies became close, Sanada felt a slow pulse of warmth through his core that he hadn't realized he had been missing. The slight chill he had been feeling all but left him, and his shoulders sagged just slightly from the sensation, body starting to relax automatically. Atobe watched the exchange carefully.

"Mm, I suppose... But in times like these, we can't be sure." He threw a purposeful glance at Yukimura that did not go unnoticed by Sanada either. He couldn't help but keep his eyes fixed on the lord of the mountains, unsure of whether or not he could truly trust him.

But cool fingers slid alongside Sanada's own, and he completely forgot about Atobe's presence, turning instead to focus on Yukimura. 

"You must be very tired, Genichirou," he started, tracing his fingers along the veins lining the back of Sanada's hand. "Atobe will have someone show you to our rooms. We'll rest here for the night. And you'll be outfitted in proper dress as well. The more you blend in, the better."

Sanada nodded. The more he stood, the heavier his eyelids felt. He wondered absently how long he'd been in this world. Had it been mere hours? Nearly a day? He hadn't the slightest clue, not knowing how time was measured here. And he could certainly do with some new clothes, Sanada could already tell he had several nasty blisters covering his feet.

"That would be greatly appreciated," he said, very ready to sit down without worrying about encountering another deadly looking creature. He walked with Yukimura to the entrance, where he was met by a guard in heavy armor, the thick horns of a ibex protruding out from his helmet. 

"Please follow me." The guard turned and began to walk toward a passage leading away from the main hall, leaving Sanada to follow in his wake.

As the doors shut behind him, he faintly heard Atobe begin to speak again. 

_“I think this would be best continued in my private rooms…”_

 

Sanada only made it down half of the corridor before he was pulled without warning into a tiny alcove. “Hey-!” Sanada tensed, immediately striking out, but a hand pressed itself over his lips while another held back his arm.

“No need to shout, I’m doing you a favor.” A sharp smirk stretched across the thin lips of a pale, rather scruffy looking spirit. Slowly, he removed his palm from Sanada’s mouth, watching him with intelligent teal eyes.

Frowning and trying to put a little more space between himself and most recent assailant, Sanada stepped back, ready to defend himself. “Where I’m from, favors don’t start with being randomly grabbed,” he growled, but the spirit only smiled wider.

“Oh, believe me, I know all about where you come from, Sanada Genichirou.”

With speed he didn’t think his tired body had, Sanada had a forearm pressed against his neck, holding him against the stone wall. “Who are you, and how do you know of me?” When no response came, he pressed harder. “Answer me!”

“Pushy pushy, didn’t your dear mother ever teach you any manners? I was lead to believe you were practically the pinnacle of politeness!”

Sanada whirled in the small space, and came nose to nose with that same, infuriating, toothy grin, completely free of his clutches. When he looked back to where he thought he had pinned him, the body he held against the wall burst, a shower of silver dust raining down over his head.

“You’re gonna have to work harder than that if you want to catch me.” The spirit leaned casually against the wall, inspecting his pointed nails. Sanada took that moment to inhale deeply. Like Ootori, he had a pair of white, canine-looking ears, though his were rounded and tipped with black. His hair was of a lighter silver color, almost platinum blond. It sprouted out messily at all angles, the longer strands barely held together by a red string at the base of his neck. Unlike Ootori however, he was dressed in a thick, black yukata, rather than the wool tunics and furred capes that seemed to be customary in Suishoutoshi. The most surprising thing about him, however, was noticed when Sanada’s eyes dropped lower. Not one, but _five_ fluffy, white tails waved behind him.

“A kitsune…”

The tails quivered with amusement. “Well spotted. Though the statues at your shrines to us don’t do nearly enough justice to our good looks, at least at the one I frequent. You can call me Niou, by the way.”

Sanada flushed faintly, not realizing he had murmured his conclusion out loud. “You still haven’t explained how you know who I am.”

Niou shrugged. “You’re right, I haven’t,” he said nonchalantly. Seeing the anger returning to Sanada’s face, he laughed. “Ah humans, so fun to play with! You have a particularly short fuse, though… I suppose I could give just a small hint away…” His eyes glimmered with mirth. “Let us just say that…we have a mutual acquaintance. But anyway. That’s not why I came here.”

Surmising that the odd, cryptic answer was the only one Sanada was going to pry out of Niou, he decided instead to take the obvious bait being presented to him. “Yes, you mentioned a favor,” said Sanada. “Enlighten me.”

“I could help you listen in on Lord Yukimura’s conversation, if you like.”

Sanada raised an eyebrow. Niou certainly hadn’t beat around the bush with this answer. But then again, his words raised even more questions. “Are you a spy, then?” Perhaps Yukimura was not as beloved and respected as it seemed.

But Niou just laughed. “Hardly! I have nothing against our High Lord, I live in his palace. I suppose you could say I’m a court magician, of sorts. But I decided to pop over here, just to see our strange new guest before everyone else back home gets a chance.”

Ignoring the new set of queries that Niou had just prompted, Sanada pressed on. “You’ve seen me, now. But why offer such an….underhanded service?” No one who was truly loyal should be willing to eavesdrop on what must be an important – and private – conversation.

Niou took a step closer, eyes narrowing slightly. “Doesn’t it seem a bit odd,” he said, innocently, “that he brought you to this place, only to be shoved out when things get interesting? Especially since you’re supposed to be his-”, but at the look of irritated confusion dawning on Sanada’s features, he stopped short. “You don’t know.”

The statement was said with such disbelieving awe, and Sanada suddenly found himself feeling more than a bit stupid. “Don’t know what,” he demanded, searching Niou’s face for any sign that he was only playing with him again. “I’m sure whatever Yukimura wished me to know, he will tell me.” He was past politeness now, he was far too tired, and Niou was getting on his nerves a little too much for him to make any effort at it. “And he excused me because he knows that I will be better off with some rest, something you are currently holding me from!” Sanada exhaled harshly, closing his eyes and trying to retain some calmness. He was feeling the beginnings of a headache pulsing behind his eyes.

“Alright, alright,” said Niou, eyes wide in surprise. “Don’t get your tail in a twist, I only had good intentions.”

This was something Sanada highly doubted, but didn’t much feel like arguing with him any more than he had to. “Just. Take me to wherever I’m supposed to be sleeping.” Because his guard escort never came back to look for him. Which he assumed was mostly likely Niou’s doing as well.

After a pause, Niou smiled in what probably was supposed to be an accommodating way, but didn’t soothe Sanada’s ruffled nerves in the least. “That’s easily done. Don’t mind the fire, it won’t burn you unless I want it to.”

And before Sanada could question what in the hell _that_ could mean, he was engulfed in roaring, scarlet flames.

 

A mere second later, the fire was gone without a trace, and Sanada nearly tripped over the edge of a thick floor rug as he stumbled.  “Don’t you people ever just walk places?!”

Choosing to ignore the shock and incredulity with which Sanada addressed him, Niou just stood, watching him try to reorient himself. “We can, and do. But I just wanted to see how you’d react.”

 _Why was it_ , Sanada thought wearily, _that nearly everyone he had met thus far liked ‘seeing how he’d react’?_ But when he looked around to give Niou the chewing out he felt he so desperately deserved, he found only a floating ball of flame in his place.

‘Sleep well, Sanada Genichirou...’

Niou’s soft laugh echoed through the room, and the fire fizzled out, leaving Sanada completely, blissfully alone. He sighed, eyeing the very large bed at the far end of the room, dressed in soft pillows and warm looking blankets. On the wall directly above it hung a beautiful painting of a gold dragon, a white stag, a Siberian tiger, and a red Kirin. But the artwork was spared only a fleeting glance in favor of the bed. It was the most comforting thing Sanada had seen all day.

Quickly shucking off his dirty, scuffed shoes and leaving the rest of his suit folded as best he could manage on a nearby table, Sanada slid into bed, sinking back against the pillows with a contented groan. No sooner had he pulled up the covers did his eyelids begin to droop, heavy with sleep. Sanada didn’t fight it, allowing himself to drift into unconsciousness, with the memory of cool, thin hands and soft navy hair surrounding him.

 

***

 

"You're certain he's the one, then?" Atobe started as soon as he locked the doors of his quarters behind him. He led Yukimura over to a dark, polished wooden table, gesturing for him to sit in one of the accompanying chairs.

Yukimura sighed, exasperation evident in the way he leveled Atobe with an annoyed look. "For the last time, I'm quite sure. Your thinking that this could be a trap was legitimate at first, but I've grown weary of your constant speculation. I may not have had as much contact as you and Kunimitsu shared before you completed the ritual, but, astounding as it may seem, I know the difference between magical trickery and the pull of my own heart!" Yukimura barely resisted the urge to shout his frustrations as his hands clenched into fists underneath the table. “Not to mention what you must have said to him while you were alone, he looked deathly pale when I sent him off!”

Sensing that he may have pushed too far this time, Atobe raised his hands in a forfeiting gesture. Perhaps narrowly avoiding slicing through the poor man’s throat was a bit overkill, now that he thought about it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply that you can't know what the bond, even in its infant stages, feels like. If you know it to be real... I suppose I must trust that."  

Nodding, Yukimura let himself relax, reaching up to run fingers through his navy bangs. "Good. I... I know it's real, Kei. That warmth in my chest, the calmness that I feel... It's the same as it was when we first met."

For a second, a smile flickered on Yukimura’s face as he briefly recalled his memories. "Will you tell him?"

Yukimura was silent for a moment, looking over Atobe's shoulder at an ornate tapestry. A great, golden dragon spread its wings against a deep blue sky. Its horned head dipped down, just barely touching the nose of a beautiful white stag stretching up to meet him. There was obvious serenity, but also a sense of power to the scene.

“….I can’t. Not yet. If Genichirou had been of this world, than perhaps things would be different, but…”

Atobe grimaced, understanding Yukimura’s dilemma. Not that Sanada could leave, necessarily, without help, but it would take a great toll on his heart to be trapped against his will. “You need him to stay. By his own choice.”

“Yes. And I need him to love me.”

The tactical, virtually detached way Yukimura’s admission sounded made Atobe frown in confusion. “You say that like you believe you can force his feelings for you to blossom. The deep magic knows, it always knows. Anything less; infatuation, one sided devotion, it won’t be a powerful enough seal.”

Yukimura gritted his teeth. “You think I don’t know that? But there isn’t time for a long game, to deal with all of the insecurities and doubt and fighting that will inevitably come with the full truth! Something is stirring in the Blacklands, Kuranosuke has sensed it. And if it is as we suspect, none of us can afford to waste time.”

“I know that,” said Atobe, reaching across the table to cover Yukimura’s hand with his own expression and voice soft, “of course I know. We have to be ready. And we will be. Trust that Kuranosuke is doing what he can to secure the border. But even so… This is such a wonderful, indescribable gift. You deserve to experience it in full, let it run its course naturally. The fact that you were even able to find your counterpart in the human world is a miracle in itself. You deserve all the happiness being with him will bring.” He deserved that the other Guardians already had.

“Perhaps, once this danger has passed, I’ll have the chance. But until then, I can’t think about it.” Yukimura murmured, sounding very tired. For what it was worth, Atobe felt he had every right to be.

Now, when he looked at Yukimura, the seemingly effortless air of mysterious calm was all but gone. He slumped forward with a shaky sigh, silky hair falling haphazardly over his shoulders. “I believe it is time for me to retire for the night as well.” Yukimura stood up from the table, shrugging his shoulders back and straightening his robe schooling his expression into one of placid indifference. “Genichirou and I will be sharing a room, yes?”

The unsteady voice, the disoriented appearance was gone in the blink of an eye. It was as though the last few moments had never happened.

Atobe rose as well. “Of course. I’ll show you.” He took one last look at his friend before crossing the room to the door, opening it for Yukimura and showing him out. “The last door at the end of this hallway.” He gestured to the right, down the passage it by dimly glowing crystals.

“Thank you.”

Atobe watched until he had passed out of sight, before deciding that he, too, was in need of a good night’s sleep.

 

***

 

 _Smooth warmness. Comfortable pillows._ _A sense of safety._

Something tickled the underside of Sanada’s chin as that warmness shifted against his chest. Sluggishly, his eyes blinked open, still unfocused from sleep. The room was darkened, the crystals magically dimmed with the time of day, but Sanada could still make out the outline of another body tucked close to his own.

Yukimura’s shoulder was fully bared, revealing the small smattering of more turquoise scales that occasionally caught the small amount of light in the room. The source of the tickling sensation, Sanada realized dully, mind still very fogged, was Yukimura’s hair, spread out around his face and over his pillow, silken ripples in the gloom.

He was fast asleep, delicate eyelids closed, lashes kissing his slightly flushed cheeks. Had it not been for the faint rise and fall of his chest, Sanada would have thought him a doll, too perfect to be real. Belatedly, he realized that his arm was draped over Yukimura’s waist, keeping him close under the blankets. He tugged a fur throw up over him without thinking, not wanting Yukimura to be woken by the cool draft that occasionally wafted over them.

Sanada had never once in his life been in a situation like this one.

He found himself more content than he could remember being in a very long time.

Seeing Yukimura in his arms like this, trusting him to share his bed, a great surge of emotion welled up in Sanada’s chest, and he quickly fought down the gasp that threatened to escape his lips. This was something he wanted to hang onto, and not let go.

As if he had sensed his thoughts, Yukimura shifted closer with a barely audible sigh. Velveteen lips brushed against Sanada’s sternum. His heart skipped a beat.

_“You don’t know…”_

Niou’s words came back to him, flooding his mind and ringing in his ears. Sanada frowned, wanted very badly to shake his head, try to physically rid himself of this unwelcome intrusion. But he wouldn’t risk disturbing Yukimura, not when he slumbered so soundly.

He resorted to squeezing his eyes shut, willing the darkness to take over, to focus on nothing but the feel of Yukimura’s body against his own. For a time, Sanada just lay there. He did not know when sleep reclaimed him.

And if he dreamed at all that night, he had no memory of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Police training has not prepared poor Sanada for the stuff he's gonna encounter here. Thank you for your patience, I hope you enjoyed!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I managed to finish this before September, yay! Now that school's started again, I might actually update more regularly, believe it or not. I'll have a lot that I'll need distracting from...

Sanada awoke to find himself alone. Not a trace of Yukimura's presence remained. There were no wrinkles in the sheets beside him that might betray another body having been there. No stray clothes or possessions in the room. Not even a single navy hair left on the pillows. Sanada tried to recall the moments of the night past but found himself unable to see clearly, his dredged up memories fuzzy with fatigue. Frowning, he wondered if it had even been real. Or if it was just a dream of his more hidden desires.

He shook his head and threw the covers back, swinging his feet over the side of the bed. He shivered as they hit the floor, the cold stone a rather harsh reminder of the fact that he was inside a mountain. He looked around for his leather loafers and found them to be gone, along with his dirtied and recently tattered suit. Instead, on a table next to a thick wooden door in the wall nearest his bed, just a few paces away, sat a pile of richly colored cloth and fur. Sanada rose, making his way over to the mysterious gift. On top of what looked like a tunic similar to the one Atobe had worn, sat a piece of parchment.

_Genichirou,_

_Use the baths in the adjoining room, then put these on. They'll suit you better here than what you had. I'll be waiting for you when you finish._

_~Yukimura_

It was written in elegant script, clearly done by Yukimura himself, rather than a message from a simple servant. But at the moment, Sanada's attention was more fixed on the first order. Now that he thought about it, a hot bath sounded like the most perfect thing in the world. He began to notice the ache in his back, legs and neck, and his bare feet on the floor was allowing a chill to creep slowly up his body. But the thing he wanted most at the moment wasn't warmth, or relief from his pains. No, what he longed for now was privacy. Privacy to process this strange, new, and probably very dangerous rabbit hole he had fallen down.

Gathering up the clothes in his arms, Sanada pushed open the wooden door. Warm, steamy air greeted him, filling his lungs and playing over his skin as he moved forward. A large pool was set into the floor in the center of the room, already filled with clear, steaming water. A set of steps was carved into the side closest to Sanada, giving him easy access to the bath. Along the edge sat a row of glass vials, filled with various liquids, each a different color. A shelf jutting out from the wall held a stack of thick, soft looking towels.

Sanada wasted no time in setting his new clothes near the towels and stripping himself bare. Coming to the edge of the bath steps, he gingerly dipped a foot into the pool, testing the water temperature. He sighed in contentment. Hot, but not to the point of scalding. Just the way he liked it. He ascended the steps, submerging himself up to his chest. Even as he just stood in the water, Sanada felt his muscles begin to relax. Around the sides of the tub were stone benches submerged under the water. Sanada sat himself down, tipped his head back so it rested on the floor of the bathing chamber, and settled in for a good long soak.

An hour later, freshly washed and smelling faintly of pine, Sanada took a good look at his new clothes. They fitted him well, the belted tunic hugged his body without being too confining, and the leather boots were surprisingly light, despite the metal over the toe and the thick fur lining the insides. The trousers were quite comfortable as well; a soft yet durable cloth that allowed for movement, and still managed to tuck neatly into his boots. Looking at himself in a mirror, Sanada felt...rugged. A bit wild. He supposed it was mostly his hair, now dried from the bath, as he hadn't been able to find a comb or a brush to tame it with.

Crossing the room to the door, Sanada made to turn the handle, but before you could, it swung open, seemingly of its own volition. Yukimura stood in the hall, and he smiled amusedly as he took in Sanada's new attire.

"Ah, much better than that suit of yours, don't you agree? You look very handsome."

Yukimura fingered one of the buttons on the tunic, and Sanada's question about where his old clothes had gone died in his throat.

"Thank you. You look....lovely as well." Sanada dearly hoped his face wasn't as red as it felt, and tried very hard to concentrate on the swirls on the shoulder of Yukimura's robe as he willed the heat in his cheeks away.

Much to his surprise though, Yukimura turned faintly pink himself. It was a good look, Sanada immediately decided, and one he definitely might like to see more often. "You're too kind," said Yukimira, looking up at him through dark lashes. But then he straightened, and took a step back.

"It is time for us to depart. This was only intended to be a short stop. Now, we make for my home."

He turned and began to walk down the hall, trailing his fingers lightly over Sanada's wrist as he went; an indication that he should follow. The crystals in the hall were just as bright as they had been the previous night, which made Sanada wonder briefly if they were self regulating, or is someone controlled their brilliance. It could be two in the morning at this moment, and he wouldn't know until he stepped outside. He hoped that Yukimura's home was more open than Atobe's immense subterranean city.

Sanada realized that it must take a long time for anyone to learn the layout of even a small part of this place. As they walked through twisting corridors and small, winding staircases, he thought about how far into the mountain Suishoutoshi must extend, and how long it must have taken to carve it out of the solid, unforgiving rock. There was nowhere he saw where the craftsmanship was not impeccable, no crumbling stairs or shattered crystal in sight. Sanada thought about how much his grandmother would have loved this place, would have loved everything he had seen in this magical world.

But he was shaken from his thoughts as the passage he and Yukimura were in lead out into the cavernous, glittering entrance hall. The large, decorated doors to Atobe's throne room were shut, just as they had been the night previous. Yukimura noticed him looking.

"Atobe will open the doors at midday, and have an audience with the citizens here," he explained, before turning to nod at the guards posted at the city gates.

In unison, they inserted the ends of their spears into deep notches on the side of each door. With a deep, creaking groan, they slowly began to ease open, and sunlight flooded the hall. The crystals reflected the light, throwing bright, dancing shimmers on every surface. Sanada blinked rapidly, adjusting to the brightness. So it was daytime, then.

Together he and Yukimura stepped out, into the sun and onto the smooth cobblestone walkway. There was no fog on the mountainside this time, and no more than a few small, puffy clouds meandering through the sky around and above them. A cold wind blew across their path, wrapping around Sanada's legs and torso, making him very glad for the thicker, warmer clothes he was wearing.

Chitose and Tachibana, once again statues, sat fierce and silent on their pedestals as they passed. Chancing a glance over the edge of the walkway, Sanada's stomach flipped. The mountainside was very steep, and very rocky, despite being mostly covered in snow. If he stumbled or fell over the edge of the path, he would fall at least a thousand feet before he hit anything solid. And with the wind blowing...

Sanada moved a hair closer to Yukimura, wanting to be as far from the edge as possible. But as they reached the end, he temporarily forgot about the fear of falling. The view in front of him was like nothing he'd ever seen.

To the far left and right, the mountain range extended, laying itself over the landscape like a giant serpent. The tall, snowy peaks were quite visible now, but none higher looking than that of the mountain behind him. Lush meadows expanded out below them, a huge blanket of green, cut by rivers and streams, and occasionally dotted with small ponds, or groups of trees. Farther out to the left, the meadow met the edge of a thick forest. Somewhere along the tree line was where Sanada and Yukimura had come out. Even in the light of day, it looked foreboding; the thick treetops seemed to extend as far as Sanada could see. To his right, the emerald fields continued to stretch, becoming slightly more hilly.

"That way will take you to the coast," said Yukimura, following Sanada's gaze. "Which, incidentally, is where we're going. Or at least above it, anyway."

Sanada nodded, trying to see the ocean's edge. "Are we going by wind travel again?"

Yukimura shook his head. “I know how much you disliked it last time,” he said. “And besides, the views from up there are spectacular.” He nodded towards the sky, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. “I very much want to share them with you.”

He looked back to Sanada. “Please step back, I’m going to need a bit of space for this, and this walkway is narrow enough as it is….”

Frowning in confusion, Sanada did as he was told, until he was halfway between Yukimura and Chitose’s statue. Yukimura made quite the stunning image, standing alone with the open sky behind him. The wind tugged at his robe, causing it to swirl around his legs, baring them up to the knee. And even from so far back, Sanada could see the way scales on Yukimura’s cheeks glimmered in the morning sun. And his eyes… Sanada squinted, trying to get a better look. It almost seemed like they were…glowing.

An explosion of blue light erupted under Yukimura’s feet, engulfing him completely. Sanada watched in awe as the bright, whirling mass grew larger and larger, almost the height of a two story house. It pulsed once, twice, and then exploded, and like a shimmering rain, fell gently to the ground. Yukimura was gone.

At least, Yukimura as he had been.

The dragon shook its magnificent turquoise head, and Sanada felt like his breath had been stolen from his lungs.  
“Well, what do you think, Genichirou?” For all that he had changed, Yukimura’s voice was silky as ever. It fit even this form, Sanada thought dazedly, taking in the long, scaly body, and massive folded wings, feathers changing from teal to royal blue to gold at the tips.

“I…you’re…stunning.” He whispered. Yukimura’s eyes – now a rich brass, Sanada noticed – crinkled at the corners, and Sanada knew he was smiling.

“You can come closer now, I just wanted to be sure I wouldn’t knock you off the edge.” The tip of Yukimura’s long tail flicked, disturbing the long glossy navy fur there that spread out like a fan. The entire ridge of his spine was covered in it, starting at the crest of his head, between thick, pearlescent horns that branched out like tree limbs.  
  
As if in a trance, Sanada walked forward, taking in the sight before him. The bridge of Yukimura’s canine-like nose was covered in large, overlapping gold scales, as were his feet and toes, ending in long, sharp talons easily the length of Sanada’s hand. Slowly, Yukimura lowered himself to the ground like a humongous cat, bringing his head level with Sanada’s body. He exhaled, and warm, sweet smelling air blew over Sanada’s face, ruffling his hair.

Tentatively, as if he wasn’t sure if Yukimura was truly real, Sanada reached out a hand.

The scales were warm, and strangely soft under his fingers. Like fine velvet over steel. Yukimura watched him as he stroked over the top of his muzzle, down to the cool, leathery nose at the end. On either side, long tendrils grew out, ending in tufts of the same fur that covered Yukimura’s neck and back. Sanada jumped at the quiet rumbling sound, until he realized it was coming from Yukimura himself. And the more he listened, the more soothing it sounded, resonating deep in his chest. Purring, was the word Sanada’s mind helpfully supplied. Somehow, he felt more whole than he had before. Sanada let his eyes slide closed, and heard Yukimura’s heartbeat, beside and in time with his own. It was comforting. It was right.

Sanada opened his eyes. “Even her stories…they’re nothing like the real thing…,” he said to himself, feeling the rhythm of Yukimura’s breathing under his palm.

“Mm…and you haven’t even seen the best part yet.”

Before Sanada could ask what Yukimura meant, he shifted, moving forward until Sanada was standing parallel to the base of his neck, just in front of where his powerful wings blended to his torso.

“Rather than use wind magic… We’re going to be flying to my home. Climb on, and hold tight.” Said Yukimura, twisting his neck around so he could see Sanada properly.

Sanada had never even ridden a horse in his life, and now he was about to ride on a dragon. His head swam at the thought. But before he could linger on it too much, he felt a push from behind, and suddenly Yukimura's tail was practically lifting him up. Settling astride his neck, Sanada took large handfuls of fur, the only thing he could think to use as a handhold. He hoped it wouldn’t hurt Yukimura if he happened to tug on it.

“Ready?” Yukimura sounded more excited than before, jaws slightly open in a dragon’s grin.

“I-ah!” Sanada fell forward, holding tight as Yukimura stood up and stretched out his wings, unfurling colorful feathers as far as they could go.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall,” Yukimura promised. He turned, walking forward to the very edge of the stone walkway, perching lightly on the lip.

And then, he dove.

Sanada’s stomach shot up into his throat, and he _shrieked_ as they fell straight towards the rocky, hard mountainside below. Yukimura kept his wings tight against his sides as he picked up speed, straight and unwavering as an arrow, tail streaming behind him. And Sanada couldn’t help but watch. They were five seconds away from impact. Four. Three. Two…!

The world flipped as Yukimura spread his wings and angled his head up, sending him soaring back into the sky. Sanada’s gut lurched again as his bottom left the scaled seat beneath him, and he used all his strength to keep his hands anchored in Yukimura’s mane, praying that he wouldn’t slip off and possibly fall to his death.

He was concentrating so hard on breathing, he hardly noticed Yukimura even out, locking his wings as he eased into a glide, riding the air currents.

“Are you alright?”

Even over the rush of wind in his ears, Yukimura’s soothing voice reached Sanada’s ears. He blinked, trying to adjust to the air blowing hard in his face, and forced himself to loosen his white-knuckled hold. “Y-Yes…!” He exhaled forcefully. It was cold, colder than it had been at the city’s entrance. Looking around, Sanada saw clouds around them, white and wispy. Some nearly close enough to touch. Without thinking, Sanada extrended a hand, trailing his fingers through the underside of the milky vapors. Once he got over the near-deadly start, flying was… He cautiously peered past Yukimura’s neck, down at the ground far below.

Amazing.

They were high above the grassy meadows now, the large river nothing but a thin strip of blue. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the mountain range growing steadily smaller, the great wooden doors of Suishotoshi not even visible.

“This is insane!” Sanada couldn’t help his elated shout; it was as if he was a kid again, riding a roller coaster for the first time. Only this, _this_ was better than anything he could have imagined.

Yukimura flapped his mighty wings once, taking them even higher. “It’s the best feeling in the world,” he replied, and Sanada had to agree. Now completely over his original fears, he knew that Yukimura would keep him safe. He’d never felt so free and unhindered in his life, even though he had no idea where he was going. Right now, he didn’t care.

“Look down, Genichirou!”

The ocean that couldn’t been seen from the mountains seemed to stretch on forever below and in front of him. The blue-green water rolled in gentle waves, and occasionally Sanada saw one break before the shore. And as he looked back, past the white sand beaches, he saw what had to be houses, almost as pale as the sand they rested behind. Above the water, he saw the tops of a flock of sea birds, calling to one another as they took turns swooping low, just skimming the troughs of the waves. He breathed in the salty air, smiling.

Following the birds, Yukimura banked into a shallow dive as well. Sanada leaned forward, enjoying the rush this time. Lower and lower they went, until they were level with the gulls flying beside them, who seemed to have no qualms about the dragon in their midst. Ocean spray misted over Sanada’s face as Yukimura let his front feet hang loose, relaxed claws dragging through the surface of the water.

Up ahead, Sanada saw a mass of cumulous clouds high in the sky. It looked strange, floating up there, and he noticed that the clouds were rotating in a circular motion, not moving lazily with the wind as they were supposed to. But rather than seeming ominous, it called to him, making him want to know just what might be hidden there. And as if Yukimura read his mind, he pushed up away from the water, towards the spiraling cloud tower. Gracefully he climbed, and the nearer they got, Sanada realized just how large it was, easily taller than any sky scraper he had ever seen, and so very, very wide.

Yukimura banked right, moving with the clouds as they swirled around, almost as if he were ascending an invisible spiral staircase. Sanada craned his neck trying to get a look at the top, but so far he saw nothing. Yukimura circled again, and again. Going ever higher. And then, just over the crest of the clouds, Sanada saw it.

A shining white tower, extending up out of the top of the cloud mass. Beautiful and solid, it was a bright beacon, tapering to an elegant, flagless point at the tip. But that spire was only a small part of the structure that revealed itself as Yukimura finally soared over the highest point of the cloud vortex.

Sanada gasped, awed by the sight before him.

An entire ivory palace floated in the center of the clouds. There were multiple spires, not just the highest one Sanada had initially seen, and most were connected by delicate, ornate gilded bridges. There were open courtyards, edged with beautiful, tall marble columns. And gardens, complete with lovely blue ponds, and every color of flower Sanada could have imagined. Yukimura swooped low over the largest pond, and Sanada startled as winged fish jumped out of the water, staying airborne for a few seconds before falling with a splash. The pond spilled out into a river that seemed to wrap around the entire structure and wind through it, crossing and overlapping in multiple places. Small waterfalls tumbled from the farthest edges, the water spilling over quickly turning to mist, and adding to the clouds below.

The main palace itself had many levels, and even more balconies, some with tumbling strands of ivy, others with fluttering golden banners. But the biggest banners hung from a giant doorway, set into the front of the lowest level. It was flanked by two stone dragon statues, almost as large as Yukimura himself, and Sanada wondered if they too might come alive, roar their welcome when Yukimura landed.

As they neared the palace center, Sanada saw bodies milling about below them; other spirits that must live there. He saw them look up as Yukimura passed overhead, some waving, others shouting in joy or greeting. He circled a nearby tower before turning toward the main high arched entryway. Beating his wings to slow their decent, Yukimura raised his upper body, making sure his hind feet touched down first on the polished white stone floor. He carefully tucked his tail around his legs as he crouched, lowering his neck to allow Sanada to dismount.

Shakily he did so, not quite free of the exhilaration of flying and effort of holding on while doing so. Looking out towards the sky, Sanada had a clear view to the edge of the palace, where far in the distance water tumbled back towards earth. Now that he was on the ground, he had the chance to admire the details of the structures around him. Everything seemed to be made from some sort of white rock, though he couldn’t make out what kind it was. If it was even something the human world had.

As Sanada gazed around, Yukimura transformed in another flash of blue. Smoothing out the creases in his clothing, he came up behind Sanada, getting his attention with a light touch on his shoulder.

“This is my home.” Yukimura sighed contently. “Ryukyuden. Known to the spirits of this world as the City of Kings.”

“It’s beautiful…” Sanada murmured. He had thought Atobe’s city had been wondrous, but it hardly held up to this.

The dragon statues, it seemed, were only that. And there were no other guards posted at the main doors. There didn’t have to be, Sanada supposed. This palace was so inaccessible, there probably wasn’t anyone that came or went without Yukimura knowing about it.

“Shall we?” Yukimura gestured to the doors, and Sanada nodded in agreement. He very much wanted to see what laid beyond.

All Yukimura had to do was step forward, and the doors began to swing inward, as though they knew the master of the house had arrived.

Unlike the immense, crystalline hall Sanada had been greeted by in the mountains, the grand foyer of Yukimura’s palace needed no magical light. Sunlight streamed in from high, arched windows, extending up from the floor to just below the vaulted ceilings decorated with intricate moldings. Between the windows were doorways, leading out to what might be courtyards, or other parts of the castle.

Rather than take him to the end of the hall, however, Yukimura took Sanada’s hand and lead him off to the side, in front of a middle section of wall that was not a window or exit, but solid. “I’ll introduce you some of the other spirits at a later time, I think,” he said in an undertone, more to himself than to Sanada.

“I’ve already met Niou.” Sanada casually remarked, remembering that infuriating smirk. It was that special type of unforgettable obnoxiousness.

But instead of looking pleased, or even surprised, Yukimura frowned, searching Sanada’s neutral expression. “When was this,” he asked sharply, eyes narrowing.

“He accosted me in the hall after my…meeting, with Atobe.”

“What did he say to you?”

Sanada thought back to his cackling laughter, the taunting ‘You don’t know.’ Something told him not to mention that particular part to Yukimura. He settled for a half-truth instead. “He just wanted to get a look at me, apparently. And tell me he knew me. But not how.” That had been one of the strangest things Niou had said, and Sanada still hadn’t worked out what his intention behind it was.

Yukimura looked quickly around the empty hall, as if concerned that someone was listening in. “Come, we’ll discuss this in private.” And then, without any explanation, he walked straight through the wall, leaving it rippling behind him like a drop of rain on a pond.

Sanada didn’t even hesitate to follow. The wall, as it stepped through it, felt cool, like he was walking through a viscous liquid. He touched his hand experimentally, expecting to find moisture, but there was none. His skin was warm and dry as it had been. He joined Yukimura in the center of the tiny hidden enclave, in the center of a circle of light gray stone streaked with gold.

“This will take us up to my personal wing.” Yukimura seemed to be lost in unsettling thought, staring straight ahead at the wall they had come through. He didn’t even glace at Sanada when the floor vibrated beneath their feet, and rose smoothly up into the air.

Seeing Yukimura so strangely and suddenly detached, Sanada felt a small clamminess settle in the pit of his stomach. Wordlessy, he reached between them, holding Yukimura’s slightly smaller hand in his own. The effect was instantaneous. He saw the tension leave Yukimura’s back, while something fond bloomed in his own body, washing the cool, heavy feelings away effortlessly. As they continued to rise, Yukimura leaned against him, and Sanada turned, nudging his nose into his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yukimura finally reveals his dragon form! And for those of you who are interested in a better picture, [here's](http://homoerotic-volleyball-montage.tumblr.com/post/136116134144/remember-dragon-yukimura-heres-his-full-form) how I imagine him to look. And because I forgot to add this at the end of the last chapter, here's [Atobe](http://homoerotic-volleyball-montage.tumblr.com/post/141813765279/tezuka-keigo-what-are-you-doing-atobe-i). Succumbing to his animal instincts. I hope you enjoyed!


	6. Chapter 6

Tokugawa sat at his desk, admiring the brand new office the university had gifted him with. In a corner of a brand new building, he could see out over much of the campus and the skyline of the city beyond. On the parts of the wall that weren’t glass, hung framed newspaper headlines, certificates, and letters. All were of a similar topic.

_“Graduate Researcher Discovers Priceless Artifact”_

_“A New Language? University Student Gets a Fantastic Find!”_

_“Research Grant, Two Million Yen”_

In a glass case, to the right of the expensive, mahogany desk, sat the book, propped up so all who entered could see the cryptic, cracked leather cover. The fingerprint scanner on the front ensured that no one but Tokugawa could access the ancient tome. Although, it didn’t stop people from asking to see it. Every day, is inbox, answering machine, and phone were flooded from requests, from small archeological societies to the biggest museums in Japan, all begging to be allowed to study Tokugawa’s rare, one of a kind book.

He refused them all. Gleefully. For he wanted this treasure, and its invisible tenant, to remain his, and his alone. Even as the news had spread worldwide, he had kept the book close to his chest, not once letting it out of his sight. He couldn’t risk it being stolen, or harmed. After all, he still needed it. And it - Irie - needed him too.

His phone buzzed, and he lazily scooped it up, flicking through the latest slew of messages to get to the newest one. Ah, yes. He was giving a talk in Kyoto in two days’ time. He made a mental note to pack for that tonight. The private jet had already been chartered, as he refused to fly commercial. Too much risk, that.

He heard a knock at his door.

“Come in.”

An assistant, or was it an intern – either way, Tokugawa didn’t care – poked his head into the spacious office. “The dean is wondering how your manuscript is coming along. He’d like you to present it at a conference next month.” As he said this, his eyes drifted over to the glass case. He dared not step closer though, Tokugawa noted with satisfaction.

He shrugged, uncaring, sharp gaze boring into the increasingly nervous looking intern. “Tell him it will be ready. And next time, since he deems this so important, he should come to ask himself.” A few months ago, he wouldn’t have ever chanced speaking to anyone in the department like that. But, he mused, now that he had made such an invaluable contribution to the fields of history and linguistics, he might as well demand the proper respect he deserved.

The intern scurried out of the office, leaving Tokugawa wishing that he might actually be able to perform some of the less benign spells the book apparently contained. He couldn’t read any of the runes, or at least not well, but Irie had explained to him certain parts of the book. Especially the parts concerning a mysterious ‘gateway’ that could be opened. But for all that he talked about it, he always managed to be frustratingly vague. Whenever Tokugawa asked what he meant, a spike of intense heat shot through his temples. He had since learned not to push the subject.

His skin began to prickle uncomfortably, and Tokugawa sat straight in his chair. That sensation meant only one thing.

_“The time grows near, Kazuya.”_

For a brief second, Tokugawa’s vision flickered as the presence made itself known in his mind.

“You say that, and yet, I am not satisfied with my wish fulfilment.” He spoke aloud, with no concern for anyone hearing him. But for his cheek, and sharp, claw like pain dragged itself over the backs of his eyes. Tokugawa squeezed them shut, trying and failing to escape the sensation as he sank his teeth into the inside of his cheek.

 _“Insolent child! You have been given many gifts, seen things no mortal has been allowed to witness, and you dare to dismiss me so?!”_ For how loudly the usually soft voice boomed in his ears, Tokugawa was shocked that the entire building did not hear Irie’s furious bellows.

Tokugawa gasped, clamping his hands over his ears fruitlessly as he bent double in his leather chair. “A-Alright…! I’m s-sorry, I’m sorry!” His begging did little to quell the myriad of awful aches Irie inflicted upon him. “I was out of turn!” Tears welled up at the corners of his eyes now as he felt a vice-like pressure on his skull. “Whatever n-needs to be done, I’ll do it! Just _p-please_ , make it stop!”

With a dark, spiteful laugh, Irie released him, and Tokugawa fell to the floor, curling in on himself and shuddering.  He had been punished by the spirit – or was he a demon? – before, but not like this.

 _“But I had to, my dear Kazuya…”_ Irie’s anger had all but disappeared when he spoke now, honeyed tone seeping into Tokugawa’s brain and soothing him despite his words. He felt the barest touch of invisible fingers on his cheek. “I’ve been so generous to you, I can’t have you backing out now. You owe me your help, you know that.”

Tokugawa nodded shakily. Lately he had begun to see what a potentially dangerous path he was on, but short of death, he could see no escape. Irie possessed him now, his body and life were no longer his own. Slowly, he picked himself up from the ground, and seated himself once again behind his desk. There was work to be done, and he had no choice but to do it. He felt Irie settle in the back of his mind, purring in pleasure as he submitted to his will.

 

***

 

Though Yukimura had promised to introduce Sanada to the other inhabitants of the palace, he found himself largely left to his own devices. Yukimura had taken him to the last room of the tallest spire of the palace, kissed him chastely on the cheek – and hadn’t _that_ set Sanada’s heart aflutter – and informed him that, while very sorry, he was going to be indisposed for the next day or two. Sanada, with his mouth suddenly feeling like it was full of warm cotton, had just nodded, still feeling the velvety press of lips against his skin.

Looking back, Sanada thought to himself, he wished he had at least asked why he had suddenly been, for lack of a better term, abandoned.

The rooms he had been left to, however, were unlike any he had ever seen, more extravagant than the most expensive hotels or lavish mansions.

Each and every wall was a comforting, light honey colored stone, warm and bright. The floor and ceiling were contrasted in a pure white, and all of the surfaces reflected the sunlight streaming in from the open doors of the balcony across the room. Fine gossamer curtains framed the arched entryway, double glass doors flung open to the outside. A soft breeze occasionally floated in, slipping over Sanada’s skin. He could smell the sea far below, as well as the flowering trees set in the nearby gardens.

But that wasn’t the grandest part of this space he’d been ushered into. Out of the wall adjacent to the balcony, the floor sunk down a step in a semicircle, the lower level covered in the plushest looking rug Sanada had laid eyes on. He realized, upon further investigation, the snow white fibers might actually be fur, but he could not tell what animal it might have come from.

On the edge of the sunken half circle, four Corinthian-style columns sprouted up, extending all the way to the high ceilings. Together they enclosed a spectacularly large bed, dressed in pale gold and teal silk sheets and pillows. Just looking at it, Sanada found himself suddenly feeling very tired. And those pillows looked _very_ comfortable.

He couldn’t remember a time when he had slept so fitfully.

By the time Sanada awoke, it was late afternoon, the sun starting to hang lower in the sky. He had expected to find himself alone, but couldn’t repress the stab of regret that Yukimura had not returned, even for a short moment. He made sure to leave the bed the way he found it; pristinely made, not so much as a wrinkle on the surface. He did, however, strip his tunic off and carefully drape it over the back of one of the winged armchairs in the corners of the bedroom, his heavy boots left at its feet. It was quite a bit warmer in Yukimura’s palace than it had been high up in Atobe’s mountains.

Unfortunately though, Sanada now found himself without a proper shirt. As much as he wanted to explore the rest of the immense castle, he didn’t feel comfortable doing so in his current state. A quick look into another adjoining room left him staring into a – in his opinion – ridiculously sized dressing room. More silk garments than Sanada had seen in any department store hung around the room, some in wardrobes, some on hooks mounted to the wall.

The far wall though, was bare of any clothes, instead covered by tapestry similar to the painting he had seen in Atobe’s rooms. Gone were the animals, instead in the center of the tapestry were two men. On the left, the taller of pair stood with wild pale auburn locks and dragon’s horns. The other was distinctly different, almost his opposite; clad in a silver tunic to match his hair, with deer antlers arching up gracefully away from his face. Their hands were intertwined, and bright sunbeams fanned out behind them. The expression of mutual love in their eyes was unmistakable.

Sanada turned away, unable to gaze upon such an intimate scene any longer. He busied himself with finding suitable clothes, finally finding an aged, pale gray yukata in the very back of one of the wardrobes. He briefly wondered who’s it could have been, for it was much too large for Yukimura’s slight frame. It very comfortably fit over his broad shoulders.

 

As lovely as these rooms were, Sanada was not willing to be kept there like a caged animal. Besides, he thought to himself as he stood in front of the wall that hid the lift, Yukimura never forbade him to leave. Just that he should make himself at home. And it would be far more comforting to know the layout of this huge palace. Or at least a bit of it. 

The floating stone disk that had initially taken him and Yukimura up to the top of the spire seemed to be the only way back down. Gingerly, Sanada stepped into its center, bracing himself for the initial wobble before the smooth descent. 

But the stone didn't move an inch. With a flicker of irritation, Sanada realized that one might need magic to command this elevator of sorts. Or even worse, Yukimura's magic specifically. 

Huffing, he grumbled, "Just take me down, is that too much to ask?"

Much to Sanada's surprise, no sooner had the words left his lips did stone rumble quietly and start to slowly lower itself down, taking Sanada with it. Now that he had to chance to properly examine this tube he was in, he noticed that the stone passed through multiple rings as it descended. Perhaps they were other floors, or more rooms like his own? 

Sanada wasn't given too long to think about that, however, as the stone came to a gentle stop, settled in a ring of marble identical to every other he had passed through. There was absolutely no way of knowing if he was even remotely close to the entrance hall. 

Sanada stepped off anyway, hesitated for a moment, and pressed his hand against the wall. It rippled as his fingers sunk into it. An exit, then. He took it.

And found himself in a veritable sea of books.

The height of the shelves was overwhelming, and each and every level was packed tightly with thousands upon thousands of tomes. At least, he thought there must be. In stark contrast to the brightness of the palace he had seen so far, the library was darkened, no windows in sight. The only light came from small, flickering candles set into the edges of the shelves, just barely enough to read by. 

Sanada squinted, looking forward. The shelves seemed to form a passage, leading deeper into the room. Curious, he followed it as it wound and twisted, until it branched off. He stood at the fork, frowning. Which way should he go? Should he even go farther? He had no idea how far this maze went on for, and wasn't overly keen to get lost in it. But as he glanced down the far left path, he spotted an odd, blue glow, different from that of the candles. Turning, Sanada carefully pulled a leather bound book from the closest shelf, and laid it carefully on the floor, marking his path back. 

He followed this new corridor of books for a few moments, before it reached a shallow curve. Looking up, Sanada noticed that the gap between the shelf walls had gotten wider. And the glow had gotten stronger. 

There was no fear as Sanada turned the corner, knowing that nothing harmful would be allowed to freely roam Yukimura's palace, even a place like this library. But even that knowledge couldn't stifle the shallow gasp at what he encountered. 

The passage had merged into a dead end, the shelves curling around and connecting to form a large, hexagonal nook. And at the very back, on a large, raised beam, a heron rested. 

 

But as with all creatures Sanada had met in this world, it was much bigger than a normal heron could ever hope to be. Even with its graceful neck lowered to allow its head to tuck nearly beneath a wing, it stood at least as tall as Sanada himself. Letting his gaze travel further, he was able to see that the primary feathers of its furled wings were responsible for the glow; a soft, yet cold blue light that filled up the space it rested in. 

Not wanting to disturb the bird, Sanada did his best to quietly turn, but before he could begin to leave, he heard a gentle rustling of feathers.

"It is not often that I get visitors here."

His voice was smooth and even, unaffected by his recent slumber.

Sanada faced the heron once again. "I apologize for disturbing your rest." He bowed low. "I am...unfamiliar with this place."

The heron dipped his head, returning Sanada's gesture. "You are unfamiliar with more than just this library. This is your first time in the realm of spirits, is it not?" Though his head followed Sanada's movements with ease, the bird spirit's eyes remained closed as he spoke.

"I-yes. My name is Sanada Genichirou. Yukimura brought me here." 

"Ah, as I thought. It is good to be able to put a name to the presence. You may call me Yanagi. I am advisor to High Lord Yukimura, as well as the keeper of records." Yanagi spread a wing, gesturing to the shelves. "When I am not needed by His Lordship, this is where I prefer to spend my time."

Yanagi reached down beneath his perch, and pulled out a thick cushion, positioning it in front of himself. "Please, sit."

Sanada sat, not at all opposed to spending more time here. Yanagi seemed to radiate a tranquil, honest aura that he realized he had been sorely missing since coming to this world. All the spirits he had met before had been near overwhelming with their powerful personalities. 

"You look like a man plagued by many questions," Yanagi offered sagely, watching Sanada's brow furrow ever so slightly. "Perhaps I may offer some answers."

The vision of the twin tapestries rose unbidden to the surface of his mind. “Who is the golden dragon spirit? I’ve seen pictures him in A- Lord Atobe’s home, as well as here.”

Yanagi tilted his head. “Are you familiar with the structure of this world’s society?” When Sanada shook his head, he continued. “The land we inhabit is split into four regions. The grasslands in the north, the mountains in the south, the deep forest, in the west, and the sea to the east. Each is watched over and protected by a Guardian. And above that, there is the High Guardian, who not only protects their own region, but the others as well. They are the leader we all turn to in times of great need. Right now, that leader is Lord Yukimura. And you have already met the Guardian of the mountains, Lord Atobe.

“The Guardians are the most powerful spirits among us. They are not chosen, they are born. The energy of the universe decides when each future guardian shall be brought to life, so that they may learn under the current one. Eventually, when that Guardian steps down, or passes on, the new one will take their place. That golden dragon you mentioned, was Lord Yamato. He was Lord Yukimura’s predecessor.” He paused for a brief moment. “I am guessing you are also wondering about the white stag?” Yanagi’s eyes opened to barely a slit, watching Sanada’s reaction.

Sanada frowned. “Yes, actually. Who was he to Lord Yamato?”

“He was his lover. More than that, he was his soulmate.” Yanagi’s voice became quieter, tinged with melancholy. “Revered for his wisdom, and gentle kindness, Lord Akuto was loved by all, but certainly Lord Yamato the most. I was lucky enough to work closely with him. He…he taught me much.” He turned his feathered head to the side, away from Sanada as his eyes fell shut once more.

Sanada waited, sensing that Yanagi would speak again when he was ready. He sat for some time, replaying the story he had been told over in his mind. While it had answered his initial questions, dozens more had arisen.

After a time, Yanagi moved again, feathers ruffling as he drew a deep breath. “That is enough for today, I think. I am sure Lord Yukimura is missing you.”

Knowing a dismissal when he heard one, no matter how polite, Sanada rose. The topic of this Lord Akuto seemed to have struck an unpleasant chord with Yanagi. And as much as he burned to ask another question, he did not want to risk upsetting him further. Sanada bowed again, thanking Yanagi for his time, and left him to his thoughts.

Following his the path he had marked back to the hidden lift, Sanada was surprised to see Yukimura inside, waiting for him. There were the beginnings of shadows under his eyes, but nonetheless, he looked content and relaxed in a way he had not when he left. “Did you meet Yanagi?” he asked, but the knowing gleam in his eye suggested to Sanada that he already knew the answer.

Sanada moved to stand next to Yukimura as the stone beneath their feet began to descend. “I did. I enjoyed his company, I think I can learn a lot from him.”

“Mm, as you should. He is in charge of recording our history, after all. I also see you found yourself into my dressing room,” Yukimura teased, plucking at the sleeve of Sanada’s yukata. “Though I don’t remember ever having that one…”

Sanada’s cheeks pinked self-consciously, but he shrugged it off. “I found it in the very back of one of your wardrobes. It was the only one that looked like it would fit properly.”

“It suits you.” Yukimura smiled up at him. “As an apology for leaving you so suddenly, would you like to have dinner with me? I’m free for the remainder of the evening. I feel like I’ve been neglecting you, Genichirou.”

“I understand,” replied Sanada, mood lightening as he took in Yukimura’s almost shy smile. “Overseeing everything as the High Guardian must be an immense task.”

This time, it was Yukimura’s turn to blush. “So Yanagi told you my whole title? I expected as much. I didn’t mean to keep it from you, but I feared if you knew right away, you would treat me differently. I hope you can forgive me that.”

“Of course. I’ll admit, I’m impressed with, and a bit intimidated by you, knowing that. But I won’t treat you any differently. Unless you’d like me to call you ‘Your Highness’…” Sanada side-eyed Yukimura, a smile of his own beginning to form.

Lightly smacking his arm, Yukimura laughed. “Definitely not! That’s much too formal for someone like you.”

“Oh? And just what am I?” Sanada questioned, eyebrow raised with curiosity.

He wasn’t expecting Yukimura to reach out and take his hand, brushing his fingers down his wrist. He looked up at Sanada, all the mirth gone from his expression, replaced with a soft seriousness. “A friend. Perhaps…even more than that.”

Without thinking, Sanada leaned closer. “I think I’m alright with that,” he said softly, his gaze unfaltering. He felt Yukimura’s fingers tighten around his own as he stretched up to meet him.

Sanada could feel Yukimura’s warm breath on his lips.

The lift jolted beneath them as it shuddered to a halt, and the two jumped apart, both looking away from one another, clearly abashed. After a moment, Sanada gestured helplessly to the exit wall. “After you.”

“Thank you,” Yukimura murmured, stepping quickly through, silk kimono fluttering around him as he moved. Sanada allowed himself a deep breath, before following after him, heart still thundering in his ears. It was a wonder Yukimura hadn’t heard it.

 

Dinner, as with everything else in this palace in the sky, was a lavish affair. But thankfully, also very private. The two ate out on one the castle’s many balconies, this one in particular overlooking a maze of trees and shrubberies, all in bloom. The air between them was sweet and just a bit cool as they dined on succulent, roasted meats and fresh fruits and vegetables. The food in the mountains had been good, but very rich, and Sanada found himself much preferring the lighter, but equally delicious meal that had been prepared for him tonight.

Across the table, he couldn’t help but sneak glance at Yukimura as he gazed out over the garden, wondering what might’ve happened if they hadn’t been interrupted. But as the evening stretched on, any awkwardness felt melted away as they talked, Yukimura promising to give him a proper tour the day following.  Hours later, feeling full, warm, and sated, they rose from the table, Yukimura assuring him the plates would be taken care of. Whether by servants or magic, he did not say, but that was the last thing on Sanada’s mind. He yawned without thinking, just barely remembering to cover his mouth as Yukimura laughed delicately, holding his hand over his lips.

“Time to retire for the night, I think. We both could use it.”

Sanada couldn’t help but agree. He had allowed himself a nap earlier, a luxury he rarely indulged in, but mentally, he was still being bombarded with one new thing after another. There was so much to take in, all at one time. He still couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact that he was staying in a floating castle, and to top it all off, brought there on the back of a dragon.

As they reached the very top of the tallest spire, Sanada expected Yukimura to leave him again. To his surprise, he strode right in after him, waving his hand at the oil lamps on the wall, causing them to flicker to life. The room as bathed in a pleasant, warm glow, and Sanada was struck dumb by the way it accentuated every sharp angle and elegant curve of Yukimura’s body, illuminating the sheen of the cloth he wore.

And then, without warning, back turned to Sanada, he untied his kimono and let it drop to the floor, the material pooling around his feet. He looked over his shoulder coyly, making sure Sanada was looking.

Sanada choked on his breath, scrambling to avert his eyes, to look at anything other than the figure of the beautiful man in front of him, now laid _completely_ bare. He couldn’t, wouldn’t allow himself even a peek. No matter how terribly he ached to do so. So he busied himself with removing his own yukata, making sure to take as long as possible to strip down to the cotton shorts he had been given back in the mountains. He refused to go naked underneath, feeling much too exposed. It was obvious that Yukimura had no such reservations.

Cautiously, Sanada got into bed, graciously giving Yukimura as much space as he possibly could. Yukimura, who had since let down his hair, and was now lounging back against the pillows without a care in the world, sheets barely pulled up past his navel.

“I hope you don’t mind sharing, Genichirou.”

Whether the purr in his voice was accidental or not, a shiver shot up Sanada’s spine.

“I, no. Don’t mind. At all.” He mentally kicked himself for sounding like an overeager fifteen year old about to hold hands for the first time. This wasn’t anything odd, just….like changing in a locker room. But in private. In bed. With someone he was beginning to very much admire.

But Yukimura didn’t seem to notice at all as he pulled the soft, thin linens up over himself as he laid down, sweeping his hair back against the pillows and away from his face. “I’m glad.” He cupped his hand in front of his mouth, as if to blow a kiss, and exhaled. With a soft whooshing sound, one by one the lamps around the room extinguished, leaving only the thin light of the moon through the open balcony to see by. “And I’m even more glad that you’re here.”

Words whispered in the velvet darkness of the night always seemed more sincere, and to Sanada, this was no exception. There was a subtle unsureness to the way Yukimura spoke, and Sanada longed to dispel it. But at the same time, this moment of raw emotion, however fleeting, was something he wanted to hold onto as well.

But he couldn’t find his voice enough in time to reply. For before he could, Yukimura had turned over, away from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I am so very sorry for the lack of content. I promise I haven't abandoned this story. And thank you so much for all of you who return for every new chapter, and those who are brave enough to try and get into a work in progress. Also, a huge shout-out to [ayameandfriends](http://ayameandfriends.tumblr.com/) on tumblr!! She has been a HUGE source of support lately, and I'm really thankful for it <3 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! Until next time~
> 
> Also, feel free to check out my Beyond the Clearing [playlist](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y5udGLuNkPo&list=PLdtkzLr7J6iIu1QJUoLtPJC2z3x_7gxKU)! Its a growing collection of music that's inspired the fic!


	7. Chapter 7

The sun had not yet risen in the sky, and the moist morning air was still and cool. The tall grasses, usually shifting and waving in the breeze, stood silent, not even a rustle disturbing the immense quiet that stretched out over the plain. Savannah grass ruled the landscape, a sea of green and yellow and gold as far as the eye could see, occasionally interrupted by hills of various sizes. Sparse trees and bushes poked up from the foliage, but more common were the large boulders of gray and sand colored stone.

Up the most impressive hill sat a village. Collections of small, hut like dwellings made of hard mudbrick and covered by thick thatched roofs were set into one gently sloping side, climbing higher and higher until the hill leveled out at the top. There stood the most impressive structure, made of the same materials, but taller and wider than the other huts by three times at least. On the ground in front of it rows of extinguished torches lined a way to the tall, rectangular double doors of the entrance.  Above the door, the high roof line was decorated with banner of brightly colored woven cloth, decorated with a lightning-like geometric pattern.

The other side of the hill was barren, save for a dirt path that twisted its way up the steeper incline. It met the top of the hill just next to several sizeable rocks, before going on to descend down through the village. There were not yet any signs of life, the morning still too young. Save for one exception.

On the far side of the hilltop, sat a cheetah, lithe figure standing out against the pale orange-violet horizon. Perched on top of a flat boulder, the spotted cat surveyed the land before him, gaze fixed intently ahead, the tip of his long tail twitching every so often. Though it was still early, the heat was already beginning to settle in as the sun began to rise higher in the sky, its brightness unmarred by clouds or fog. 

A warm breeze ruffled its way through the high grass growing around the boulder. Briefly, the cheetah's ears swiveled to the side, before pricking forward again. His golden eyes blinked, and narrowed.

Suddenly, over the crest of the nearest hill, something stirred. The cheetah stood up immediately, watching as a lone Kirin made its way over the hill. His head hung low with exhaustion as he waded through the golden field, broad chest easily carving a path for his large, ivory body to follow though. A curved horn gleamed in the growing light, standing up proudly from a burnished silver forelock that narrowly avoided falling in his eyes. 

As the Kirin got closer, he lifted his long, refined head, wide nostrils flaring as they caught the scent of his observer up on the hilltop above. Without any hesitation, he broke into an easy canter as he scaled the hillside, cloven hooves thudding dully on the hard ground. 

The moment he reached the top, his equine body melted away, revealing a bare chested, silver haired man. In fact, almost all of his body was bare, save for a fur lined skirt set low on his hips and large wood and gold collar, decorated with feathers and precious stones.  

“You should still be asleep, Kenya… Though I can’t deny I’m very happy to see you.”

The cheetah huffed and shook his head, before he too transformed. “At least I got sleep. Knowing you, you’re probably not going to let yourself rest until tonight. You look exhausted, Kurarin.” He moved closer to Shiraishi, laying a sun-darkened hand on his bicep.

Shiraishi’s tail curled loosely around Kenya’s waist, thin as a whipcord save for a tuft of long, silky hair on the end. “Mm, you know me too well.” He smiled tiredly, focusing on the warmth of Kenya’s touch. “But now more than ever, I need to be vigilant. No action can be wasteful.”

“You’re not on your own, stop acting like you are.” Kenya’s ears flicked back, mimicking the irritation in his expression. “He might be retired, but Lord Juzaburo is far from incapable of carrying out tasks, and Zaizen needs to learn his duties anyway.”

“Has he been slacking off lately?”

Kenya huffed, rolling his eyes. “No, he hasn’t, but that’s not the point. You may be our Guardian, but you aren’t the only one keeping this place standing. And to think so is an insult to the rest of us.” He looked away, tail lashing back and forth.

Shiraishi sighed. “I know. I’m sorry,” he murmured, reaching out to gently cup Kenya’s cheek. “I’m just…worried. About everyone. About you.”

“You really must be tired, if you’re so worried about me,” Kenya scoffed, but the softness in his eyes betrayed him. “I wasn’t the one out on the border for three days. Alone, I might add.”

“Ah, that reminds me…” Shiraishi’s ears drooped slightly as he attempted to hold back a yawn. “I have to report to Yukimura.”

“Tell me there’s nothing of interest to say?”

Shiraishi shook his head. “No movement, but there’s something out there. I can feel it in the earth…” His eyes unfocused for a moment as he waded through his memories. “I can smell it in the air. A darkness. Unnatural for even a place like the Blacklands.”

Turning to look out over the horizon once again, Kenya couldn’t help but shiver. “Next time, bring someone. You can’t risk being caught off guard, or worse, overpowered.” He looked back at Shiraishi, taking in the shadows under his eyes. “But for now, you need rest. The report can wait a few hours, at least.”

Laughing softly, Shiraishi stepped forward, resting his forehead against Kenya’s. “Not going to let me off the hook there, hm? I’ll sleep if you come with me…”

“Of course you’d ask that.” Kenya smiled affectionately. “But fine, if that’s what it takes. Zaizen can do the morning rounds. He needs to bond with the rest of the villagers more.”

“That he does. But I’m sure he’ll be alright. For now though,” Shiraishi tilted his head, pressing a lingering kiss to Kenya’s lips, “I’d very much like to lay down with you.”

 

***

 

Waking up next to Yukimura was something Sanada thought he'd never get used to, even after a week of doing so. But really, when he thought about it, he didn't want to. The shock of Yukimura sleeping nude had begun to wear off, and although Sanada still didn't feel comfortable touching him beyond the occasional brushing of fingers under the covers - and even that made him blush a bit - he no longer slept as close to the edge of his side of the bed as possible. This intimacy was something he'd never before experienced, or even imagined in more than a fleeting thought sort of way. But it was...nice. More than nice. Comforting. 

Never before had Sanada been able to wake up to something other than his blaring alarm in his small flat, demanding that he get up and start his morning meditation. After years of such a strict routine, his body naturally awoke at an early hour, but now he had something much better than the plain walls of his room to see when he first opened his eyes. 

As Sanada slowly came to, Yukimura slept on peacefully beside him, soft breaths barely audible in the cavernous bedroom. The first rays of morning light were just beginning to permeate the gossamer curtains hiding the large balcony doors, causing the exposed scales on Yukimura's shoulder to shimmer weakly as he shifted beneath the covers.  

Sanada allowed himself a few minutes to take all of this in, enraptured by the way Yukimura's soft lips were parted just so, and how his wavy bangs trickled down his cheek and down into the dip between his neck and jaw. Sanada was sure he could scour the globe, look at every artwork known to man, and he'd never find anything as beautiful and peaceful as this scene before him. 

Careful to cause as little of a disturbance as possible, Sanada extricated himself from the bed. As he slid out from under the covers, Yukimura stirred, brow briefly furrowing, but did not wake. Sanada smiled, unable to help himself as he leaned over the bed to pull the covers up over Yukimura's pale back and shoulders. As soon as he did, Yukimura sighed, a sleepy whisper leaving his lips. "Gen...."

Drawing back quickly, Sanada was struck by the way his heart ached, clenching in his chest as Yukimura's murmur rung in his ears. Quickly, he walked around to the bed, silently drawing back the curtains and opening up a door just enough to that he could slip out onto the open balcony. The cool sea-scented air did much to calm his body and mind, wrapping around him and soothing the sudden heat down instantly. Sure that no one would see him clad only in his undergarments from such a height, Sanada settled down in seiza, closed his eyes, and began to lose himself in the familiarity of meditation. 

Two hours later, Sanada was shaken from his concentration by a cool hand on his shoulder. 

"I wondered where you'd gone off to."

Looking over his shoulder, Sanada found Yukimura, now fully awake and garbed in a thin, pale gold yukata, smiling down at him. 

"I did this every day, back home. I just haven't had the chance until now," he replied, getting to his feet and ignoring the obvious cracking of his knees as he did so.

Yukimura, however, did not. "Are you hurt?" He frowned, squinting as he looked at Sanada's knees. 

Sanada shook his head. "Not anymore. It's just leftovers from an old sports injury from high school. It's long healed."

That seemed to satisfy Yukimura, and he brushed past Sanada to lean against the balcony railing. The sun was climbing steadily higher in the sky, and the air around them was starting to warm. Far below, Sanada heard the cries of gulls as they soared through the clear skies, no doubt on the hunt for breakfast just below the surface of the sea. 

"There's nothing that needs my immediate attention today, as far as I'm aware," said Yukimura, watching the way the cloud barrier below swirled lazily around the palace edges. "Would you finally like that proper look around the city?"

Sanada, momentarily distracted by the breeze making Yukimura's hair flutter, nodded belatedly. "I would."

Looking over the railing and down, down, down into the courtyards way below, Sanada could see other spirits beginning to mill about, starting their own mornings. As he watched, Yukimura's hand covered his own. Without thinking, Sanada turned his hand so that their palms lay flush against one another, and intertwined their fingers. They stood like that for quite some time.

 

 

Four hours into Yukimura showing him around Ryukyuden, and Sanada was just beginning to feel confident in his basic knowledge of the place. He’d done a decent amount of exploring by himself over the past week, but now that Yukimura had the time to actually be with him, pointing out landmarks, supplying him with tidbits of history, it was much more enjoyable. The floating city was certainly every bit as large as it looked, but he quickly learned that many of the buildings toward the outskirts were civilian homes, belonging to the spirits that did not inhabit the castle. Of which there were _very_ many.

The sheer number of spirits Sanada had seen was enough to send his head spinning. Though, one in particular stood out. With wild black hair, and horns of gunmetal silver, Kirihara had been one of the first inhabitants of the palace Sanada had met after Yanagi. Yukimura had introduced him as his protégé, the one who would someday take over as High Guardian when Yukimura himself was no longer able.

Personally, Sanada thought he had quite a bit more maturing to do, as Kirihara had announced himself by dropping down from a high ceiling, and in doing so gave Sanada a mild heart attack, his hand instinctively reaching for the police baton he didn’t have. He looked at Sanada like a cat might look at a helpless mouse, grinning wide to show off his sharp fangs.

“This him, Yukimura-sensei?”

His antics earned him a sound smack upside the head and a disapproving frown from Yukimura. “Have some decency, this is hardly behavior befitting a Guardian-to-be. And yes, this is Sanada Genichirou. He’ll be staying with us until further notice. I expect you’ll treat him with the utmost respect?” Yukimura raised an eyebrow, staring down Kirihara as he awaited his response.

After a moment, he gave him, shoulders slumping. “Yes, Yukimura-sensei, I will,” he sighed, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes or stick his tongue out in rebellion.

Yukimura smiled and patted his shoulder. “Thank you. Now, I do believe you have a lesson with Yanagi, do you not?”

Kirihara’s eyes widened. “Is it three already?! Crap, he’s gonna be totally mad…!” Black and green feathered wings burst suddenly from his back, tearing a decent sized hole in the back of his yukata. Without another word, he took off down the nearest hall, flying just feet below the ceiling.

“No flying in the palace!”

But he was already long gone, and Yukimura’s reprimand fell only on Sanada’s ears.

“Can you do that? Make your wings just…appear,” Sanada wondered aloud, looking after where Kirihara had gone.

“Of course, I can transform in any fashion on the spectrum between fully human and fully dragon. Anything else though, requires magic I can’t do without outside help.” Yukimura turned his back to Sanada, revealing a long, scaly dragon’s tail poking out from under his robes that had certainly not been there a moment before. “See? I could walk about with a dragon’s head, if I really wanted to. But truthfully, it’s a bit ungainly to walk around like that. And it’s so much easier to move around without wings or a tail dragging behind me.”

Sanada nodded in understanding. Though secretly, he did wish to see Yukimura’s wings more often. “Why do you keep your horns then?” _They must be at least somewhat of a hassle._

“It is an act of consideration. Those who choose to hide their spirit form in its entirety are not to be trusted. And although everyone knows me and what I am, I too present, so as not to put myself apart from anyone else.” Yukimura reached up, absentmindedly thumbing the lowest prong on one of his horns. “Besides. I’m rather fond of them.”

Sanada was just about to agree that, yes, they were lovely, when a blur of white and carmine fur skidded into the hall. Just barely avoiding a collision with a thick column, the shiba inu righted himself, giving an energetic shake to clear his head. Looking over his shoulder, the dog stretched each of his wings in turn making sure they were still unharmed. When he was satisfied that everything looked to be in order, he transformed in a puff of pink smoke.

“Ah, Marui, news from Shiraishi I assume?”

Marui nodded, curled tail bobbing behind him as he did so. “Yup,” he said, eyes flicking toward Sanada as he spoke, who was watching him with mild interest, “might be best to go get Yanagi-san. Nothing bad but…well, always good to talk things over.” He reached into the fold of his yukata, and to Sanada’s surprise, pulled out a stick of very _human_ gum. He popped it into his mouth, chewing nonchalantly as Yukimura frowned.

“Yes, I’ll call him immediately.” He clicked his tongue in distaste. “And where do you keep getting that? It’s a disgusting habit”, he scolded, wrinkling his nose as Marui blew a large bubble, which Sanada guessed he did purely to be obnoxious.

Marui only shrugged, unfazed by Yukimura’s displeasure. “Niou finds it when he goes to the human world. Well, steals it, more like.” He smirked. “Not like he has any money.”

Yukimura pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, as apparently there’s more important business to attend to.” He turned to Sanada. “I’m sorry,” he said, moving a step closer. “I’ve got to see to this, even though I hate to dash out…”

Sanada tried to smile understandingly. He supposed it was inevitable that Yukimura be pulled away after being able to be with him for the better part of the day. “It’s fine,” Sanada reassured him, pushing away his mild exasperation. “I’ll see you tonight?” He tried not to sound overly hopeful, knowing full well that Yukimura’s meetings sometimes kept him until the early hours of the morning, when Sanada had long since gone to bed.

“I promise.” Yukimura agreed, resting his hands on Sanada’s shoulders as he stretched up to kiss his cheek, barely missing the corner of his mouth. The now ever-present warmth that simmered deep in Sanada’s heart stirred at the contact. The kisses, becoming increasingly more common, were something he undeniably welcomed, looked forward to, even. Now more than suitably convinced that Yukimura would keep his promise, Sanada watched him leave with Marui, leaving him alone in the open corridor.

He was pondering whether or not to try to find his way back to the fish ponds when he heard a soft rustle of fabric behind him. Turning, he saw a familiar shock of platinum blond hair and swishing tails.

“You two are gross, you know.” Niou smirked, scratching idly at his shoulder. “Just the absolute _sweetest_. Practically enough to rot my fangs.”

Determined not to give in to Niou’s goading, Sanada settled for a stern glare. “Don’t you have anything better to do than taunt me?”

But Niou’s grin only widened. “As of ten minutes ago, I do, actually. But I can be late. The meeting won’t start for another five minutes, and unlike most of the spirits here, I don’t have to take the time to,” he disappeared and reappeared next to Sanada in a pop of crimson flames, “walk.”

Sanada rudely shoved Niou away from himself, barely holding back a growl of displeasure, though as usual, it only seemed to egg him on further.

“But what about you? Just gonna stand around like a handsome statue while you wait for your _dear_ Lord’s return? Seems you’ve been doing a lot of that lately, hm? That’s not very considerate of him…”

His obvious prod at Yukimura was what finally got a reaction from Sanada, and he snarled, advancing on Niou. “You know nothing about us!”

Niou laughed wildly, dancing out of Sanada’s clutches and appearing up in the support beams of the ceiling. “I know things about the two of you that would make that thick head of yours burst! But please, don’t take my word for it! The historical records don’t lie. I’d ask Yanagi, but since he’s busy…well, you’ll just have to do some searching, won’t you?”

Sanada glared up at him, feeling very much like yanking his tails off and presenting them to Yukimura as a nice scarf.

“After all,” he continued to call down, “wouldn’t you like to finally _know_ for yourself?”

With those final, cryptic, irritating words, Niou vanished from the hall.

Sanada took a deep breath, closing his eyes and focusing on releasing the anger Niou had built up in him. After a moment, his fingers unclenched from fists he didn’t realize he had made, and he felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. What didn’t leave, however, were Niou’s parting sentiments. Sanada gave his head a light shake. No use, he realized with a sigh. Even when he was gone, the kitsune continued to cause him problems. He’d managed to put Niou’s words out of his head last time, but that had been because flying with Yukimura had been an excellent distraction.

Perhaps the only way to relieve his admittedly piqued curiosity – no matter how much he did _not_ want to accept it – was to do as Niou had hinted and go to the immense library. With a huff, he turned and began making his way down the hall in the direction he knew his destination lay. Part of him, becoming considerably smaller with each passing day, did want answers. He wanted to know why Yukimura was constantly being pulled away, why he was even here in the first place. _But it’s not your business_ , another part of him argued, the very large part that simply accepted Yukimura’s actions for what they were, because he was a leader, after all.

But why then, did _everyone_ seem to know something, except for him? Atobe had threatened him within an inch of his life for supposedly no reason, though Sanada was staring to suspect there was. Niou had sought him out to bring up the subject of “knowing” not once, but _twice_ , and Yukimura, if Sanada did happen to ask how a particular meeting went, always went a bit glassy in the eyes and assured him that everything was fine. And strangest of all, now that Sanada thought about it, was how Yukimura had reacted upon hearing about his first run in with Niou back in the mountains. He seemed almost…angry.

Rather than use the hidden entrance, Sanada pulled open the main door to the library, wincing a bit at the creaking sound that echoed throughout the passage. Slipping inside, he found the huge, maze-like room as dark as it always was. Chalking it up to Yanagi having an odd preference for low light, he looked around, seeing no signs of movement, nor anything that looked like a receptionist’s desk.

“How does he expect me to find anything like this,” muttered Sanada, noticing that there weren’t even labels on the shelves or titles on the spines of the books closest to him. Utterly ridiculous, all of it.

The flame of the candle closest to Sanada blinked, turning from orange to deep red.

Eyeing it closely, he stepped closer, wondering if Niou was suddenly going to pop out of it. But the candle just continued to burn. A second later, the one to its left turned red as well. Not having any other plan of action, Sanada opted to follow the string of red flames as they continued to appear, walking deeper and deeper into the sea of shelves. After a particularly complex series of twists and turns, he was lead into a dead end, much like the one he had found Yanagi in, minus the large perch. Instead, situated in the middle of the space was a wooden table and a comfortable looking armchair. Two books sat stacked on the table, and next to those, a large oil lamp, burning brightly.

Sanada took a seat in the chair, settling down and pulling the books toward him. Like the others, they were without a title, but the covers were decorated with beautiful gold designs and runes. Inlaid in a symmetrical design across the leather were many beautifully polished stones and gems, gleaming in the lamplight. He opened the first book, and a stray piece of parchment slid out into his lap.

_You deserve better than to be kept in the dark. Congratulations on having the balls to go looking for the light._

The note wasn’t signed, but Sanada knew full well it was Niou who had written it for him. Setting it aside, he turned his attention back to the first page. There were no words, only a small picture; four trees set in a circle, with a star above them. Sparing it only a passing glance, Sanada flipped to the next page. There, a single line of runes graced the center of the page.

Runes that Sanada, unfortunately, had no idea how to read.

Reaching for the second book, hoping that it was translation guide of some kind, his fingertips brushed the over the dried in. Almost instantaneously, the strokes of each rune began to shift, rearranging themselves into neat katakana script. Forgetting about the other volume, Sanada took in the title before him.

_The Soulbond and its Origins_

Without hesitation, he turned the page, and began to read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit I actually updated on time. But anyway! From here on out, the plot's gonna pick up, so if you thought it was a bit slow so far, hopefully you'll enjoy the next chapters more. Art of Shiraishi and Kenya will come soon, I'm currently away from home and can't access my sketchbook.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanada finally gets some answers. But will he be satisfied with what he finds?

_When the higher powers of the universe created the spiritual plain and those who inhabit it, alongside the gift of life, they gave the gift of love. A love that can take many different forms, so that it may suit all of the individuals that experience it._

_The first type of love is familial love. While there are no true blood relations between spirits, those that grow up together form deep bonds of trust and respect. While these spirits may clash and quarrel, there is always the underlying connection that allows them to come back to one another, to forgive and be forgiven. Spirits with familial bonds see each other as another type of home, someone to come back to, to comfort and be comforted by._

At this, Sanada thought of his family back home. _Did they miss him? Did anyone even realize he was gone?_ Not knowing how the passages of time between this world and his own, Sanada could not know. But all the same, he felt a pang of longing as he realized how much he missed them. He might not have gone home very often to visit his parents, but there was quite a large difference between being a city or two away, versus an entire world.

 But then, there was an even greater degree of separation present. The face of Sanada’s grandmother floated to the forefront of his mind. Even if he did return to the human world, she would not be in it. He felt his nose and the corners of his eyes start to tingle. For the first time since he had left her grave, Sanada had time to really think about what he had lost. No longer would he be able to receive handwritten letters from her, enjoy her cooking during the holidays, or be able to confide in her as he had been able to with no one else

She would have loved this, Sanada knew. And she would have loved Yukimura most of all.

Blinking away the moisture prickling at the corner of his eyes, Sanada read on.

_The next kind of love is that which is found between friends. Friend-love is forged between spirits of similar heart and mind. If a familial love is a home, love between friends is an adventure, a journey with no end, a chance to explore and discover. Friends often find it easy to confide in one another things that one might not tell family members. While there is still deep respect between friends, it is often a more honest kind. They are equals in every sense of the word._

Sanada understood that, for the most part. He and Yagyuu had known one another for years, and there were certainly things that he had told the other that he had never dreamed of sharing with his parents or grandfather, despite loving them dearly. Specifically, his disinterest in marriage. At his age, his family had begun to nudge him towards it more and more, insisting that he begin to consider settling down with someone. But Sanada could never bring himself to tell them why he always refused the meetings they tried to set up for him. 

He turned the page, not wanting to dwell on such unsettling thoughts.

_The third kind of love is romantic love. While sex is not always a part of this kind of love, it is very common, the intimacy of the act only serving to increase the passion and trust between lovers. And with that trust, there is commitment. More than friendship or family relations, romantic relationships often operate under a set of terms decided upon together by each party. They are open in regards to boundaries, likes and dislikes, and needs. There are few secrets between lovers, and as time goes on, they become deeply entwined in one another’s lives._

While he was no stranger to how relationships worked; he had seen enough of them around him as he grew up, Sanada had yet to experience one for himself. Even casual sex was something he tried to avoid, his few sexual forays in high school were purely to indulge his curiosity and rampant teenage hormones. Outside of that though, he’d just…never felt the need to pursue someone. No one had ever caught his interest.

But then Sanada remembered Yukimura, how he’d looked that morning, swathed in gold and the rays of the morning sun. Looking at him had make his heart ache and his stomach flutter. He wondered if that was what love was supposed to feel like. Sanada’s brow furrowed in confusion. It couldn’t be, he’d only known Yukimura for a few weeks, not including their first meeting almost twenty years ago.

Looking back to the book, Sanada hoped he might find more clarification.

_While the aforementioned kinds of love are gifts to all, the Guardian spirits were given a fourth love, a chance to form a connection deeper than any other. It has no true name, for it is impossible to give simple words to something so pure, so grounded in the ancient magic of creation. Over millennia, however, it has been given the name ‘Soul-Bond’._

_In the barest of terms, the name is accurate, as a soul-bond is something forged between two spirits at the moment of their creation. It is an invisible string that ties their hearts, minds and magic, and it cannot be broken. There are though, several stages of the bond, for spirits are allowed to choose for themselves how far they wish to take it._

_The first stage, when the bond is in its infancy, is said to be characterized by a soft warming sensation in a spirit’s core, growing when as they get closer in proximity to their bondmate. It may also rise and fall depending on the emotions of either party, or if they touch one another. It is not so different from the romantic attraction that normal spirits feel, Guardians have often shared that they experience a fluttering in their stomachs, and the warmth may spread to their cheeks and neck as their skin flushes._

_Over time, that need to be close to one another will intensify, and that feeling of gentle heat may occasionally become a tugging at the heart of each spirit if ever they are apart for too long. They also become more in tune with one another’s habits, movements, and emotions. In combat, a Guardian and their bondmate who have never fought together before may do so almost seamlessly, or they may find themselves realizing things about one another without speaking about it first. For example, if one has gotten hurt, or finds themselves feeling abnormally happy or morose, their bondmate will sense the change themselves. Physical intimacy is also heightened, as one spirit’s pleasure becomes their partner’s as well._

_While the transition between the first and second stages of a soulbond is fluid, there is a definitive line between the second and the last. A ritual must take place to set the final seal. When the night sky is cloudless, when there is no wind in the trees and the world falls silent at the peak of the moonrise, each bondmate speaks the incantation that will irreversibly tie them to one another for the remainder of their lives. As the words are uttered, runes will carve themselves into the skin of each spirit, and as their blood falls it must combine in a basin of agate crystal. Each combination of runes is unique to the couple, permanently marking them.  The blood is the key to merging their magic and life force so that it is forever shared between the two._

_After the ritual is complete, each spirit will be able to tap into the mind of their partner to an extent, sharing emotions, base thoughts, and dreams. It is said that, with training and meditation, that the couple may even be able to access the magic of their bond consciously enough to engage in full telepathy, although it has never been officially documented._

_This, however, is historically where many guardians left their bonds stop developing. With all the benefits of a full bond, there is also great consequence. The life of each spirit is fully dependent on the wellbeing of their bondmate. They will be able to feel one another’s pain and sickness, though they may not be physically effected by it. But beyond that, should the Guardian or their bondmate die, the other will fade as well. One cannot survive without the other._

_For this reason, many Guardians choose never to complete the ritual, some even refusing to seek their bondmate at all. For all that the soul-bond is a great strength, it is also a great weakness, and often too much of a risk for spirits in such an important leadership position to take. Through each generation of Guardians, there has only been a handful of recorded soul-bonds, as most elected to live their lives without it. The High Guardians almost never make soul-bonds, and after the first generation, none were made until the late Lady Hanamura._

The chapter came to an end, and Sanada shut the book, mind reeling with all of the new information he had read. He was no stranger to the concept of soulmates, it was a common topic of the students in his high school classes, but a soul-bond seemed… frightening. To tie yourself forever to another living being, with your life and theirs permanently codependent… Sanada shivered. He completely understood why very few of the Guardians of the past had elected to go through with it. Surely he would make the same choice, if he were in their position. But the first stages at least, those did sound like they could be pleasant.

Sanada blinked. And opened the book again, flipping through pages until he found the passage he wanted. Quickly, he skimmed through as the runes translated once again.

_“…a soft warming sensation in the core…”_

_“…a tugging at the heart…”_

_“…need to be close…”_

For a moment, his heart stopped beating.

 Sanada shook his head, refusing to let himself even speculate. He wasn’t a spirit at all, what he felt for Yukimura couldn’t _possibly_ be the beginnings of what the book had described. Of course, Yukimura was stunningly beautiful, and elegant, and kind and intriguing, but. It was just a crush. A normal, human crush.

But was it really? For he had already acknowledged his lack of romantic interest in any of his peers, for as long as he could remember.

Sanada realized then that he had absolutely no idea what being in love felt like, save for his feelings towards Yukimura. There was no way to be sure of it, not this time. Sanada groaned, dropping his head into his hands, trying his best to forget about what he had just read. Niou wouldn’t have brought him to this place, to that book, if he himself didn’t suspect what Sanada was resolutely trying to ignore.

He stood up, deciding the only way to deal with this was to confront Yukimura. To get a good, solid answer as to why he felt the things he did, to know if Yukimura was the same.

At the mere thought of it, his throat tightened.

But as Sanada made to leave, he accidently knocked the second book, which had so far gone unopened, to the floor. He paused, looking down at it. Perhaps it contained more information. He bent down, hand hovering over the cover as he contemplated his next choice.

Giving in to curiosity, Sanada sat back down, book in hand. Niou hadn’t lead him astray yet, and he had most likely chosen that book for a very specific reason. This one, however, had no title on the cover, but on the spine. Sanada ran his fingers over the embossed leather, and it mutated under his touch, to reveal;

_The Sixth Age – 11_

_Transcribed by Yanagi Renji, Keeper of Records, Seventh Age_

The numeral, Sanada supposed, marked the place of this particular book in a series, written about whatever ‘The Sixth Age’ meant. A history book, rather than an informational text like the last had been. As he turned the tome to open it, he noticed a dog-eared page, toward the end of the pages. Sanada flipped to it, not bothering to find out what the text before it may have been about.

Like the last time, he was met with a title page.

_The Twin Guardians_

Sanada’s brow furrowed. He distinctly remembered reading that spirits had no true blood relations. The next page contained no runes, but instead a pair of dragons, twisting and curling around one another, wings outstretched and jaws open in matching snarls. It was far from a harmonious depiction.

Before Sanada could look too closely, however, the dragons separated and exploded in a burst of ink that swirled against the page, color morphing from the original black to form vivid images. In awe, he watched as the scene in the book began to come to life.

 

_As the sun set on the fifth generation of guardians, the sixth was graced by the universe with a blessing never before seen, or even imagined, by any spirit. Not one, but two High Guardians were brought to creation. Powerful dragons with scales of gold; one rich and deep like honey, the other as vibrant as the sun. Brothers, everyone called them. Yamato, although the smaller of the two, was calm, patient, and eager to explore the world around him. Byoudouin, however, lacked patience, and was always the more hotheaded of the two. He was unafraid to voice his strong opinions._

_Spirits seemed to flock to Yamato even when he was young, delighted by his kind voice and sweet poetry, which he spent much of his time writing and refining. Yamato, like his master and current High Guardian Lady Ryuzaki, believed that the key to a peaceful existence between the four territories was good philosophy and an understanding of history. And he wanted nothing more than to share his reading and his beliefs with his brother, Byoudouin, who he considered a best friend and partner._

_But rather than spend his time in the vast libraries of Ryukyuden, Byoudouin could often be found in the training halls or gardens, honing his skills with both the sword, and his own magic. All were impressed with his great skill even at a young age. The spirits who turned to him for guidance and help predicted that he too, would be a magnificent leader one day. Slowly, he began to amass a small following of spirits from around the city, wanting to learn from him, and perhaps gain for themselves a bit of his strength. Gladly, Byoudouin accepted them._

_While Yamato too devoted himself just as much to his time in the training hall- although he preferred his other studies- Byoudouin was often found late, or even entirely absent from his scheduled tutoring sessions with the head scholars of Ryukyuden. He disagreed with Yamato’s philosophy wholeheartedly, instead believing that with enough power, spirits would give their allegiance to him without a fight. This message he often impressed upon his followers, warning them that to go down Yamato’s intended path, was to leave yourself open to hurt and betrayal. As always, they hung on his every word. And Byoudouin reveled in it._

_From the start, both boys only wanted what was best for the world they would one day watch over together. Neither wanted outright violence, but each had a radically different understanding of what effective leadership could be._

_As they grew older and wiser, the small crack between them widened into a rift, one that grew little by little with each passing day. Both were strong, handsome, and the pride of Lady Ryuzaki, who had mentored them and raised them since the day of their creation. But the time when the paths of Yamato and Byoudouin would diverge forever was fast approaching._

_Finally, after hundreds of years of training and studying, the two were deemed ready to attend a Grand Summit; a centennial meeting of each region’s Guardian, and once old enough, their protégés. Yamato was overjoyed, he could hardly wait to meet all the leaders in one place, hear them speak and learn their wisdoms. He longed to meet the future generation as well, those Yamato considered his allies in keeping peace in the world. Byoudouin too was pleased, looking forward to sizing up the other Guardians-to-be and impressing them with his magical prowess. He wanted to leave a lasting impression, believing that in doing so, they would be more likely to acknowledge and agree with any decisions he made in the future._

_But when the guests arrived at Ryukyuden, and gathered in Lady Ryuzaki’s private gardens as the evening began to set in, Yamato’s attentions were drawn to one spirit in particular. Lady Hanamura, Guardian of the Deep Forests of the west, had brought along her student, the young stag spirit Akuto. The moment Yamato’s eyes met his, they felt a connection, as if a thin, fragile thread ran between them. In the hours before the Summit officially began, the two approached one another. Introductions were made and stories were shared, Yamato completely enraptured with the way Akuto spoke, his soft voice flowing like the calmest of rivers as he described his life amongst the trees._

_Together they stole away from the main congregation, wandering deep into the gardens, between the tall hedges and weeping willows. Yamato longed to reach out and feel the pale, velvety antlers that grew up from the crown of Akuto’s head. They were similar, yet so different from his own horns. In fact, everything about Akuto was something new to discover, each little fact and feature about him something for Yamato to treasure and remember. Akuto, too, was just as taken with Yamato, for more than the fact that he was an anomaly, one of two chosen to be High Guardian. He asked for him to recite some of his poetry that he so loved, and couldn’t help but match Yamato’s elated and infectious grin at the request._

_Tucked away in their little corner of the garden, the rest of the world seemed to fade around them, save for the bright stars shining above, and the soft whisper of the evening breeze. They would have stayed longer, talking the night away, but it was not to be. Lady Ryuzaki, concerned with her student’s absence came looking for them. Grudgingly, they parted, hoping that they would get more time together before the night was gone._

_Both were rather morose the morning after, not wanting to be separated so soon after beginning their friendship. They promised to write one another as much as possible, Akuto imploring Yamato to keep him updated on his life in the clouds, as well as share the compositions he worked on. Yamato readily agreed, his only condition that Akuto do the same for him, including his findings on the luminescent plants he had enthusiastically chattered on about the night before._

_And so their written correspondence began, day after day, week after week. Months turned to years turned to decades, and before Akuto and Yamato had noticed, six hundred years had passed. Yamato visited Akuto as often as he was permitted, sometimes spending as much as a month away from his home. His favorite times were those when Akuto came to him, although those occasions were much rarer. But because of that, he cherished those meetings all the more. For as time stretched on, the two were no longer just friends, but became lovers as well._

_Lady Ryuzaki was pleased with Yamato’s choice, especially when his relationship, even in its early stages, did not affect his work. If anything, he threw himself even more wholeheartedly into it, always looking for a way to get extra time to spend with Akuto. But while Yamato’s happiness grew, so did Byoudouin’s anger. When once he used to spend time with Yamato, helping him hone his skills with a blade, or go out with him for adventures in the city, he now had an air of surliness to him, even going so far as to make cruel jabs at Yamato when he requested time away from his studies. He saw the budding relationship between Yamato and Akuto as a weakness, a distraction, and something wholly unnecessary. Hardly the behavior befitting a High Guardian._

_And Yamato was not the only one he scorned. Byoudouin’s patience for his teacher, Lady Ryuzaki herself, had long since begun to wane. He grew increasingly more tired of her attitude towards his counterpart, and angry that she saw him as a being a perfect example of a true leader. Such misplaced tolerance would lead the city, and perhaps the entire spirit world to ruin._

_Yamato tried to placate Byoudouin, assure him that his first priority would always be to his duties, but it did little to mend the distance between them. Their relationship, one that once flourished, stagnated, and began wither._

_When Lady Ryuzaki passed, and the two ascended to become proper Lords of their realm, it rotted beyond repair. It was then that Byoudouin confronted Yamato publicly, backed by his dedicated supporters, demanding that he break his relationship with – now a lord himself - Akuto. As far as he was concerned, Yamato would never be able to rule as he should when he held another so close to his heart. He saw it only as an invitation for treachery. There was no room for love, as a High Guardian, only power and solitude. Anything else, he believed, was worthless._

_In the main hall of the castle, surrounded by onlookers, Byoudouin gave him an ultimatum. Give up his lover, or step down as High Guardian. If he should do neither… Byoudouin threatened, in no uncertain terms, that the choice would be made for him._

_Of course, Yamato refused, unwilling to renounce his love for his Akuto. The pair had long since known that their connection, so deep and pure, was more than just a romantic love. Before she died, Ryuzaki had imparted to them both the knowledge of the soulbond, the strongest form of love in existence, gifted only to Guardians and their bondmates. Rather than share this joyful news with Byoudouin however, Yamato had kept it from him, sure that it would only anger him more._

_On the night of the autumn solstice, when the harvest moon blazed brightly in the sky, Yamato and Akuto became bondmates, forever tied to one another in heart, mind, and soul._

_As he predicted, Byoudouin was enraged when Yamato told him of his bond. He accused him viciously of throwing his life away, that he would now never reach his full potential. And he would never be a leader to anyone._

_Yamato’s bond was the final straw. That night, Byoudouin sent out a message to all of his followers. They were to ready themselves for a takeover._

_Sensing the coming conflict, Yamato warned his lover, who happened to be with him in Ryukyuden at the time, that there would be violence in the coming days. He implored Akuto to leave in the night, so that he might be unharmed by whatever happened. But Akuto refused, promising that no matter what, he would stay by Yamato’s side. No matter the danger. No matter the pain._

_The next morning, as cloud barrier of the city turned stone-grey, and rain began to fall, Yamato and Byoudouin met in the center courtyard, the latter fully dressed for battle. His disciples, as he called them, surrounded the pair, eager to assist their master in claiming the title of sole High Guardian. But what they did not expect, was for an even larger group of spirits to arrive at Lord Yamato’s aid. In fact, he himself could not have predicted it, he had asked for no one’s assistance, not wanting any spirit to be needlessly hurt for him._

_Yamato asked one more time for Byoudouin to put an end to this madness, for the sake of their people._

_But he would not be swayed. Drawing his sword in one fluid motion, he charged Yamato._

_Chaos erupted._

_Weapons clashed and magic rent the air as the two sides fell upon one another, each ready and willing to give their lives for their Lords. Akuto, in full beast form, large antlers glowing with the strength of his magic, fought to defend those in need. Adept at healing spells, he kept the spirits on his side free from wounds as best he could, all the while fighting off attackers of his own. Byoudouin had given explicit orders to take down Akuto should he fight, knowing that he was Yamato’s Achilles heel, the only true way to defeat him._

_It did not take long for the dragon Lords themselves to transform, taking to the skies in a storm of golden wings and slashing claws. Their roars shook the air like thunder, so loud that they could be heard by the spirits in even the farthest reaches of the land. The rain fell harder as more and more angry clouds amassed above and among them, darkening the entire city below._

_Byoudouin fought with reckless abandon, rage beginning to eclipse his carefully honed technique. Using his tail, he unleashed a volley of razor sharp spines, small enough to wedge between the gaps of Yamato’s scaly hide. Blood mixed with the falling rain as they pierced him, staining the water an ugly burgundy. He grappled with Byoudouin as he fought through the immense pain, sinking long fangs into the meat of his shoulder. But his grip did not hold for long; Byoudouin wrenched himself away, separating the two as a jet of scarlet flame burst from his jaws._

_Yamato retaliated in kind, fire lighting the clouds from within, casting a sinister glow to all onlookers. On the ground, the spirits of each side were beginning to lose steam, several bodies laying prone amongst the fighters. Akuto had not been able to reach them in time._

_But still the rest carried on, the battle raging for hours. Looking down, seeing the carnage and bloodshed Byoudouin’s conflict had caused, Yamato sought to end the fight once and for all. Though tired to the point of exhaustion, he forced himself to keep up with his adversary claw for claw, spell for spell. His body began to act on autopilot as he focused his mind as best he could, drawing from the well of power that his bond to Akuto allowed him._

_Renewed vigor coursed through Lord Yamato’s veins and his pain melted away. In a flash, he curled his tail tightly around Byoudouin’s hind legs and bit down viciously on the back of his neck. As he struggled furiously, Yamato beat his wings, pulling them up beyond the cloud layer. But as he rose, so focused on carrying so much extra weight, Byoudouin felt the grip on his neck loosen, and he struck out with his claws, ripping apart the membrane of Yamato’s right wing. He roared in agony, but still did not release Byoudouin’s legs, held fast in the coils of his tail._

_But he could no longer support them both, damaged wing incapable of flight. In a split second, Yamato made his decision. He tipped back, stopping his attempts to fly entirely, and began to plummet back down to earth, dragging Byoudouin with him. Byoudouin tried fruitlessly to keep them aloft, all the while ripping at Yamato’s chest, desperate to flay him, kill him in the air so that he might have a chance of getting away. Yamato retaliated, drawing his head back and scorching Byoudouin’s face in a gale of white-hot flame._

_Now completely blinded, his efforts to escape doubled. Fully cornered now, fear began to creep into his mind. He had never expected Yamato to fight at all, let alone as savagely as he had. Byoudouin had never even thought him capable of it._

_The two dragons, still entwined, burst back through the bottom of the cloud layer. Sunlight streamed through the hole their bodies had created, engulfing them like a spotlight. With each passing second, their speed increased and they drew ever closer to the ground, to their almost certain deaths. Akuto, seeing his lover fall, his body torn and bleeding heavily, rushed to where they would hit the ground. They were only a hundred meters up, and falling fast._

_Akuto’s antlers flashed with magic as thick vines erupted from the ground up towards Yamato, a last attempt to stop his collision. Byoudouin unleashed a terrible screech, tail whipping about, dagger-like spines flying out around him._

_With a booming, sickening crunch, Yamato and Byoudouin hit the ground in a cloud of dust, courtyard stone cracking and crumbling underneath their weight._

_The rest of the spirits ceased their warring. All eyed turned to where their Lords had fallen. The dust began to dissipate._

_No longer in their beast forms, the bodies of Byoudouin and Yamato lay strewn on the ground. But slowly, shakily, Yamato began to move. With great effort, he heaved himself onto his other side, facing the crowd._

_His eyed widened, and he choked out a harsh, broken sob._

_Not five meters away, his limp hand still reaching for the spot Yamato landed, lay Akuto. Pierced through the heart by one of Byoudouin’s spines._

_Unable to walk, Yamato dragged himself to his lifeless bondmate, torn chest leaving a trail of smeared blood in his wake. His tears made tracks against his dirty cheeks as they fell, and his hands shook uncontrollably as he pulled Akuto into his arms, cradling his body as he buried his face in his neck and cried. The longer he held him, the more he felt his own life begin to fade. But this fight was still not yet won._

_Gathering every last vestige of magic he had within him, Yamato raised his hand, his palm glowing a deep purple. The air shimmered, and black, iridescent tar began to bubble up from where Byoudouin lay, creeping over his flesh until it encased him completely. Yamato closed his fist, and the tar imploded, crushing Byoudouin’s body until nothing remained but a small onyx orb. A moment later, a single, complex rune engraved itself on the surface, flickering the same shade of violet as the aura from Yamato’s palm._

_Drawing his last, shuddering breath, Yamato pressed his chapped, blood-stained lips to Akuto’s cold forehead one final time._

_He slumped to the ground, the life gone from his body, his bondmate still in his arms._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good god, this was a very difficult chapter for me to write. I hope it reads well for you guys! The next installment will DEFINITELY come sooner rather than later. As always, thank you for reading, and continuing to support my works. 
> 
> Also!! My friend Ayame (MidnightFragments) has completed the translation of the first chapter into Hebrew! I'm so thankful to her for helping my fic become accessible to more people <3


End file.
